


Orbiting You

by TheGoblinWitch



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Antagonism, Bottom Dib (Invader Zim), Comfort Food, Dealing With Transition, Enemies to Friends, Everyone Is An Adult, First Kiss, Gender Dysphoria, Healthy Coping with Mental Illness in Everyday Life, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Illness, Mentions of Eugenics, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other, Pining, Sex Toys, Sex Work is Real Work!, Sex Worker Character, Sexual Assault, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stalking, Voyeurism, body alteration, trans bodies, unhealthy idolization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25215214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoblinWitch/pseuds/TheGoblinWitch
Summary: Zim finds himself in a position he never dreamed of... Exposed. To a human. Other than Dib!To rectify this, he follows them home with the intent of wiping any traces of their memory of him.Sol, said human, is just an explicit cam personality by day, and escort by night, trying to make a living when they are in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's not their fault they stumbled upon this loud little alien's secret. Maybe they could work out a deal with him; one that DOESN'T end in their brain possibly turning into pudding.Little do either of them know just how intertwined their lives will become after their seemingly fated meeting.
Relationships: Dib (Invader Zim)/Original Character(s), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), Zim (Invader Zim)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to preface this with the fact that this fic is 100% self indulgence. 
> 
> A friend recently got be back into the Invader Zim fandom after a very, very long hiatus from it, and it gave me the itch to write for it. Which, I am thankful for, because I have missed writing GREATLY and having that motivation back has been absolutely wonderful. 
> 
> I hope some of you out there get some enjoyment out of this self fulfillment along the way! This OC means a lot to me and I hope they pique your interest and pull at your heartstrings as you watch their story unfold!
> 
> Some parts of this may feel slightly off or silly, and if so, it is because I tried to keep some of that air of surreal 'weirdness' Jhonen Vasquez is so wonderful at depicting. On that same note, there are plenty of very real depictions added in as well. 
> 
> Now, on to our story~

“I swear to The Almighty Tallest, I will torch every single one of you WRETCHED, FILTHY STINK BEASTS for daring to touch the ALMIGHTY ZIM! Just you WAIT!” 

Zim kicked at the head of the goat that still audaciously gnawed at his leg, yanking at him as he tried to pry his leg from his jaws. An angry, garbled yelp rose from him as a dribble of clearish-pink fluid wept from the edge of the wound. He let out a frustrated grunt, giving a last kick at the creature, finally getting it to let go of his limb so he could use his pack legs to scutter out of it’s reach. 

The beast bleated angrily at its lost chew toy before trotting away into the abandoned alley. 

“You better hope the Dib-stink’s Chupa-whatever gets to you before I do, you smelly, dirt weasel!” 

The alien sneered at the retreating animal, shaking his fist at it before turning his attention to the bite that had worked through his leggings, leaving a minor mark on his leg. Nothing major. Hell, it wouldn’t even leave a mark with his superior healing, but it was still disgusting and oozy, fluid was weeping and sticking to the clothing in and around it. He grumbled under his breath, cursing in Irken about his luck, deciding to make his way home to disinfect the germ-filled wound and incinerate the defiled clothing article. 

He wouldn’t have even been in this inconvenient predicament if it weren’t for the damned Dib-monkey. 

The human, who had only seemed to have grown frustratingly taller, now towering over the Irken, had extended his range of paranormal study significantly. This had been both a blessing and a curse for Zim. It, occasionally, made things more difficult for the Irken Invader, in that the human’s resources seemed to have only grown; while on other occasions it meant the Dib Thing would disappear for extended times to hunt other paranormal creatures for study. 

Having not heard from the human for some time, Zim had decided to hunt down his decade long arch-nemesis, and occasional ‘frenemy’, as he had learned the dubbed term. It was better to know the man’s whereabouts, so he knew whether he needed to be worried about him meddling in the Irken’s affairs. 

Apparently, all he had been up to was setting up extravagant traps for some Mexican goat-snatching goblin, or whatever the beast was. Zim had tuned out the information upon finding him, hiding in a makeshift hut in the dark alleys at the edge of the city; boredom and irritation overcame him in waves when he realized that his worry had been in vain. 

Waiving off the human, he went about his way, only to not only trip into one of the foolish human’s goat traps, but to have said stink-beast dare chew at his perfect Irken appendage! 

Scaling the alley walls with ease, thanks to his PAK legs, the alien shouted into his communicator. “GIR! Ready the medical bay! I don’t have my emergency pack on hand and I have a FESTERING nuisance of an injury to attend to when I arrive.” He dropped onto the pavement of the neighboring lot, letting out a pained hiss as he landed on his feet, lowering to one knee for a moment out of instinct. 

A hysterical giggle replied from the communicator before swapping to a deep, resolute voice. “Yes, Sir!” The voice slipped back into its sing-song tone before cutting out. “I’ll kiss your boo-boo’s all better, Master! Goodbye!” 

Zim grumbled and let out a sigh, dragging a gloved hand down his face in exasperation. Hopefully the bot would finish the assigned task before getting distracted with whatever he was currently up to. Turning his attention back to his leg, he rose again, grunting at the effort and letting out a curse in English, and then Irken before rising to his full height. 

As he rose, the sound of shoes scrunching on damp pavement caught his attention, his antennae twitching towards the sound in their ever hyper-vigilant state. 

Turning his head slowly, he watched as a human seemed to glance over the alley where he stood. Frozen in place, he watched them, holding his breath and glaring, ready to pounce at the drop of a pin. 

Just as he was sure the human had seen him… their gaze drifted past him. The human, bundled up tightly and pulling the edges of their coat closer against the wind, walked past the Irken, seemingly oblivious to Zim’s presence, continuing on their path. Zim let out his breath, still watching them intently until they made their way down the street, finally turning the corner under the safety of a bright streetlight. 

He squinted into the darkness, his Irken mind turning quickly over the near exposure.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Sol sat on the edge of the dingy motel bed, pulling up their leggings and underwear in a fluid motion. A rough palm reached over and caressed their shoulder gently as a deep voice, all timbre, spoke up next to them. 

The hand slid up, a knuckle caressing their cheek for a moment before twisting in the long, ashy-blonde waves framing their face. They tilted their face up and smiled; a soft smile, as their gaze met the kind stare of their client. 

A tall, older man in a business suit, his well-kept beard and perfectly coiffed hair making him seem out of place in the cheap motel, returned the stare. The corner of his mouth tilted slightly higher. 

“The blonde suits you.” 

Sol chuckled under their breath before standing and giving a twirl, letting the curls bounce over their bare shoulders briefly before reaching for their sweater and tugging it on. It was a crop top that showed off their plump stomach and their hips, while minimizing their bustline. Thankfully, this client knew of their chest dysphoria, having been a long-time customer, and not only respected it, but preferred outfits that emphasized their preferred ‘figure’. 

“That’s why I wore it… I know how much you like my blonde ones. I had a feeling you would enjoy it.” 

The man chuckled at the confession and slipped a hand to their shoulder, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss to their hair. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I wired the amount. Cash can be just so dangerous to carry around, you know.” 

Blonde hair bobbed in agreement as Sol nodded. “That’s fine. You know I trust you. You’re not just some random John, as our activities do so prove.” They chuckled. 

They both knew what was meant by the comment. Sol was smart enough by now to have rules about their in person liaisons. They only had full intercourse with people they had grown to trust. Anyone else had strict rules about cash up front, and condoms and hard limits on ‘services provided’. 

Giving a nod of acknowledgment, the man walked away, pausing in front of a mirror to straighten his tie before glancing back. “Until next time, My Companion.”

Sol waited until the click of the door echoed through the room, sighing to themselves before collapsing backwards onto the unmade bed again. They stretched their arms over their head, a quiet pop cracking from their shoulder before they groaned, humming in contentment as they stared at the ceiling. 

Pulling out their phone, they pulled up the app to check the account the money had been wired to, not for lack of trust, but out of sheer habit. Sure enough, the funds, plus a nice sum more, had been added. Altogether it would be enough to cover all their bills and the rest of the rent for the upcoming month that they had been fretting over, plus put a portion aside into their savings. 

Their meetings with this client were rare, but when they happened, it was always well worth the payoff. He was a decent man, and a wealthy one. Even if he wasn’t though, his respectful nature alone was worth their times spent together. A break from the mundane.

They tossed the phone onto the bed and let their arms drop, taking a mental tally of their physical and mental well-being. 

A quick glance at the old analog clock on the wall showed it was just past midnight. Briefly, they considered staying and trying to gain a few more quick customers; the room was paid up through the night. They were sure of that. 

Ultimately, they decided against it. Sleep beckoned them, and it would be much more restful in the comfort of their own bed versus a cheap motel, with a designated check out time come morning. 

Rolling sideways, they flopped out of the bed, silently praising themselves for not cursing as their knees hit the floor harder than intended. It didn’t take long to putter around the room and gather their belongings. Keys? Check. Bag? Check. Overly large, gaudy leopard print coat? Check! 

Was it the stereotypical ‘hooker’ coat? Hell yes. Was that part of why Sol found humor in wearing it? Also yes. Plus, it was warm as Satan’s armpit, and that was always a bonus in their eyes. Not to mention they had thrifted it from some hole-in-the-wall shop in the city for $20. Who could say no to that? 

Locking the door behind them, Sol made a quick detour to turn in the room key at the front desk, the pimply adolescent man lounging behind the desk not even looking away from the tiny television screen as he picked it up from the counter, a cheap porno playing on mute. 

Sol turned away, unphased, and walked around back, heading to the back streets to begin their trek home. Taking the less walked path cut a good half hour from their walk.

Of course, they weren’t completely oblivious of the risk in making such a decision. The hand holding their keys rolled the keychain sized bear spray between their fingers, the opposite hand already threading short fingers into the holes of the brass knuckles slipped inconspicuously into the large coat’s pocket. 

Thankfully, the walk tonight, as most times, was seemingly uneventful. 

That was, until Sol heard a brash hiss coming from one of the dark alleyways as they neared it. 

Figuring it was probably some poor homeless person, nursing a wound, they only gripped the knuckles tighter for a split second, still erring on the side of caution by using their peripheral vision to glance down the alley as they neared it, giving it a wide berth. 

Just as the alley came into view, a deep, authoritative voice, followed by a high-pitched, excited one sounded out from the shadows, catching Sol’s attention, making them turn their head. Was someone down there? It looked like maybe there was…

Suddenly the tiny figure let out a curse as it rose to its feet. 

Deciding they should probably not stick around to find out more, Sol stepped forward again, beginning to cross the alley’s entrance. 

Their breath caught in their throat though as the sound of their shoes on the pavement seemed to draw the person’s attention, eyes flashing to stare at them. 

All time stood still. Sol’s heart beat like a drum in their ears as realization dawned on them that the eyes that flicked up to stare at them… into them… weren’t human. Glints of ruby in the stray flecks of light watched them intently, the creature focused solely on them. 

Self-preservation kicked in; Sol let their glance sweep over the entire alley, refusing to hover on the glints of red, daring them to acknowledge their existence. 

As if to sell the confused act, they shrugged their shoulders into themselves, pulling their coat tighter around them, both to comfort themselves and to ward off the ever present wind threatening to chill them to the bone. 

They hurried their steps only slightly, choking down the instinct to run for fear of giving their ploy away. The decision to make their way towards the better lit path, staying under the streetlights the rest of the way home, was an intentional one though. 

Once they had turned the corner, seemingly without being pursued by the… creature? Alien? What that thing was? They let out a ragged breath, leaning against the rough brick of the wall for support. 

The pounding in their chest slowly eased as their mind raced. They had always been interested in the paranormal to a degree, in things strange and out of this world, but when face to face with the prospect of it, well, that was another thing. As they calmed down, a slight hint of curiosity piqued at the recesses of their mind. Maybe even an ounce or two of regret.

Regret? That couldn’t be right. 

Human instinct had developed a fight-or-flight response for a reason, and they had listened to theirs appropriately. They were still alive and kicking, after all. 

Slipping their keys into their pocket, they let their hands hang loosely beside them, shaking them out to ease the built up tension in their fingers as they headed towards their home again. 

Thankfully, they weren’t far from home by now. Especially with their thoughts dizzied by the recent experience, the familiar front door appeared before them in seemingly no time at all. With practiced movement, they unlocked the door of the rundown, single room home. It would be an exaggeration to call it a house, but the rent was cheap, and that was all that Sol cared about. The area wasn’t the best, but what area was when you lived in the city, let alone by yourself, they found themself reasoning, when they had put down the initial deposit. 

Locking the deadbolt behind them, a sigh of relief left parted lips, feelings of comfort and safety pouring over them in waves now that they were in the security of their domicile. 

Walking further into the house, they quickly made their way towards the bedroom, shedding articles of clothing along the way. Making a brief stop in the much too small bathroom, they removed the blonde wig, breathing out contentedly as they placed it over the wig stand perched on the shelf they had installed on the wall. 

Dark brown eyes wavered, catching on themselves in the cracked mirror. They unwrapped the cloth that helped keep their wig secure and gave the fuzz on their buzzed scalp a much-needed scratch, reveling in the feeling. It was a decision they had made in the depths of their depression, buzzing their hair off, but one that they ended up revelling in and finding comfort in. They strangely… liked it. 

Besides. Not having hair meant less personal upkeep. And having a variety of wigs meant being able to change their hair like they changed their clothes. A new style for each one. It had turned out to be a worthwhile decision on multiple fronts. 

A smile crept at the corner of their mouth at the memory, their anxieties from the night starting to melt away.

“You’re handsome! Look at that fuckin’ face. Damn!” 

Sol laughed lowly as they spoke to the person in the mirror. They had read somewhere that complimenting yourself made you believe it, so they made a point of trying it out every once in a while, even if it just made them feel silly. 

Their spirits lifted, they left the washroom and finally made their way into their bedroom, making a beeline for their clothing rack to snag a comfy t-shirt, the sleeves and bottom cut off long ago to make it into a crop top. Across the chest it read in bold font ‘Do Not Perceive Me’. Swiping up a pair of boxers from a pile, they wriggled them on, smiling now that they were finally at peak ‘comfort’ level. 

“Shmoogle, play my Just Got Home Playlist.” 

The AI voice on their phone confirmed the request, a poppy-punky song suddenly emanating from it and filling the room. 

Taking no time to hesitate, they slumped over and into the comforting embrace of their bed, careful not to drag down any of the carefully hung netting or curtains framing the back or side of the bed. They narrowly avoided bumping their hip on the metal bedpost, giving the black detailing and the fairy lights on it a cursory glare. 

The second their body hit the bed, they sunk into the plush comforter, groaning in a nearly pornographic manner. They swept an arm out and grabbed one of their pillows, a giant, overstuffed version of the planet Earth. Pulling it into their arms, they chuckled, their eyes drooping as they pondered the irony as they thought back on the strange creature they had stumbled upon. Maybe it _was_ an alien? What then? 

“I kinda wish I could see it again…” They muttered tiredly to themselves as sleep drew them deeper into its embrace. 

Little did the unsuspecting human know, ruby eyes peered at them from the window.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deal's are made. 
> 
> For science. 
> 
> Not curiosity. At all.

Zim clung to the outer wall of the human domicile, using his PAK legs to keep himself perched just within view of the upper corner of the window. He watched the human inside, having shed its strange disguise and curled up in its bed, none the wiser of his prying eyes. 

“I just know the human stink-beast saw me! It was a good thing I tracked it back to it’s home. I have to be 100% certain it will not compromise my mission!” He growled low in his throat, contemplating what his next move should be. 

He could always bring them back to his base and use them for one of his experiments. Though, he had none that required a human test subject, currently. And frankly, keeping a captive human was a nuisance. He had done so a few times before and quickly tired of having to care for it, finding it easier to dispose of them in some manner or release them. 

He should err on the side of caution and just wipe the filthy creature’s brain, just to be sure. He just knew, deep in his squeedlyspooch, they knew something. Seen something… 

Using his free hands, he quietly lifted the window from its closed position, breaking the locks with ease. The brief noise made the human stir in their bed, making Zim freeze, holding his breath until he watched them roll onto their back, settling quickly into peaceful slumber again. 

The Irken trilled in self amusement at how unguarded the pitiful creature was, thinking to himself how utterly below him these sacks of flesh were. His mind raced as a self-satisfied smirk spread over his lips. 

‘Just look at it… sleeping so peacefully while I enter so easily into its lair. I could make as much noise as I wanted, and it would be none the wiser. Stupid, disgusting humans… They truly don’t even deserve to be conquered by the Mighty Irken Empire. So beneath us.’

Zim slipped into the room, slinging to the ceiling and spindling across it a few feet until he was hovering over the human in its bed, blissfully unaware. The human let out a gentle huff, its brows creasing for a moment as it made a look of discontentment in its slumber. An unpleasant dream, perhaps? Humans were prone to dreaming far more than Irkens, Zim had learned over his years on the blue marble of a planet. He watched their face, tilting his head and pondering on it as he took in the human’s soft features. 

Unlike the Dib-human, this human had a gentle face, with round, soft cheeks and small heart-shaped lips that seemed to pout, no matter their change in expression as they dreamt. They had darker skin than the Dib-thing as well. The long hair they had had earlier was missing. Like himself, they had been in disguise; he had concluded. 

His gaze wandered lower, taking in the rest of their form. Soft breasts, and a plump stomach, with hips that suited their bottom heavy figure perfectly. Why would he notice that? He had no interest in the human physique. He was purely studying this new and different anatomical form, was all! He shook his head at himself. He was simply used to Dib and the other humans with their tall, lanky frames by now. That was all it was! 

He tore his attention away, pulling out a small device from his PAK and holding it in his gloved hand, running his fingers over it in anticipation. 

He considered silently going to work, wiping the oblivious creature’s brain as it slept so it would be none the wiser. But something in him wanted to speak to the human before doing the deed. He shook his head again, disgust overtaking his features. What was he thinking?! He had no INTEREST in this pile of meat and bone and flesh. He did however want to revel in its face as it stared into his eyes, realization dawning on it as Zim took away those memories of him. He wanted it to face him one last time before he ripped their memories away. 

Bracing his PAK legs wide over the frame of the bed, Zim dropped himself down onto the human, using his mechanical appendages to be as imposing as possible. Not that he needed it. Just the sight of him was sure to strike bed-wetting fear into the human. 

Sure enough, the human jolted awake, gasping as their eyes flew open, drowsiness leaving them instantly as adrenaline flooded their veins. Brown eyes searched the room, terror filling them for a moment before settling on the creature posing formidably before them. Their hands gripped the bedding around them as they took in a deep breath, holding it as they watched him.

Sol’s brain felt like it froze in that moment as recognition sparked in their sleep-addled brain. Looming over them, illuminated by the light of their window and the faint glow of the fairy lights along their headboard and footboard, was a... creature. Green skin, long mechanical legs sprouting from its back, and antenna gracing its head, slicked back almost instinctively. Menacingly. But what resonated in Sol, what made their guts coil and clench, were ruby red eyes staring into them in the most alien manner they had ever encountered. 

That was what it was. There was no mental gymnastics they could go through to deny it.

An alien hovered over them. 

Not just any alien.

The same alien they had seen mere hours earlier. 

Sol’s voice came out cracked, barely a choked whisper. “W-what? What do you want?” 

Zim craned his head, looking into the human’s face as if it were the stupidest thing he had ever met. It wasn’t; he had to deal with some atrociously stupid creatures, but still. What a stupid thing to ask. 

“Do not play your mind games with ZIM! You will not be allowed to expose him, no matter how GLORIOUS he may be!” 

The Irken raised a fist as he shouted into the creature's face. 

Sol tried to lean their head back, cringing at the shear volume the alien seemed to immediately go to. 

“Expose you? Wait… Give me a second here…” 

They scooted further up the bed so they could sit up slightly, leaning up on an elbow while they rubbed the bridge of their nose, trying to process what was being shouted at them.

Zim frowned, his agitation growing. “There will be no seconds! Stare into the face of the Almighty Zim! Show your fear and regret before Zim removes all memories of his awesomeness from your brain!” 

Sol pulled their hand from their face, realization starting to set in as the gears turned in their mind. They scooted so they could sit up fully, propping up on a pillow groggily. Their hands moved up in a motion of surrender for a moment, waving back in a soothing manner. 

“Okay, wait! Can I say something before you, like… wipe all my memories of you from my brain?” 

Zim paused, considering the request for a moment before humming to himself. His PAK legs lowered, easing his full weight down onto the bed so he now sat cross-legged on the human’s bed. He nodded, pleased with himself. 

“Seeing as there is a 78% chance of your brain turning into PUDDING during the memory extraction process, Zim will grant your request. What would you like to say to Zim? Please make it entertaining! Groveling would be preferred. I would quite enjoy laughing at your sad, human misery.” 

A soft, “Uh… huh…” left the human’s lips as their mind worked through the acknowledgement. 

Sol lowered their hands, raising one and counting off on their fingers as they spoke. Maybe they could reason with this alien. It was obviously of high intellect. Hopefully, they could come to some sort of agreement. Preferably one that didn’t involve their brain possibly becoming… well, pudding. 

“Okay so… you’re worried about me exposing you. Right? Well, if I was going to expose you, why would I be here just… sleeping in my bed like nothing happened? Wouldn’t I be off trying to sell off that information like… as soon as I could?” 

The Irken held his chin in his gloved hand, pondering the reasoning. It seemed sound enough. This human may not be as unintelligent as most of the ones he seemed to encounter. He nodded slightly to himself. 

At the slight nod, Sol continued, encouraged. 

“For two! Exposing you would mean fame. Recognition. Which, I know what you’re thinking- But I don’t WANT that. I don’t want attention. I just want to live my damn life. Which leads into point three. Even if I **did** want fame, that is far from the kind I would want. To be the person who proved alien existence is real? I’m good. Or worse; I don’t want to be known as the crazy person who thinks aliens are real. Even if I DO. You don’t bring that kind of attention to yourself by shouting it from the rooftops. So, see? What do I gain, that I want or would benefit from, from exposing you?” 

“LIES! Your tiny human brain will concoct any lie to preserve your existence!” Zim rose up slightly, his PAK legs emerging menacingly. 

Sol held their hands out gently. “No, seriously! Think about it. If I wanted to expose you, it would be just plain stupid. But again, not something I care about. Zero interest.” 

Their face twisted awkwardly, the corner of their mouth curling up as they shrugged, when they repeated themselves. They weren’t lying, and they just hoped the alien believed them. 

Zim settled some, humming as he mused on the human’s words again more seriously. Maybe they were being genuine. Did he care, though? 

The alien shrugged, pulling out the small device again. 

“Meh. It still would be easiest to just delete your memories. Now, pudding brain time! Good talk!” 

Sol gave one final, exasperated plea. 

“Okay, wait! There has to be an alternative to pudding-braining me. A way that proves to you I’m serious. How about…” They mind frantically spun for a moment, their eyes searching their room for some solution. Suddenly their gaze landed on their computer setup, realization dawning on them. 

They looked at the alien with awed resolution. “Just monitor me. Literally. Just… set up some cameras! I don’t care. Watch me and you can SEE that I’m not going to turn you in or expose you. And if I do, then you would know right away and you could come destroy me. No pudding ordeal. Just straight up annihilate me. I promise!” Their hands blew out, mimicking a minor explosion. 

Zim thought carefully on the idea presented to him. As loathe as he was to admit it, it was a rather ingenious alternative. And if nothing else, it could provide him with an immense amount of data from observing a human in their private habitat. 

He also couldn’t deny some enjoyment in getting to obliterate the human when they proved him correct in his accusations.

“Your proposal intrigues Zim. This scenario is… favorable. Zim will agree, so I may also gather invaluable information about you human’s habits when in the seclusion of your domiciles.”

Sol nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine with that.” A thought came to mind and they let out a harsh laugh, their gaze averting. “As to the whole ‘data about normal humans’ thing, just… My only requirement is privacy during certain days and times. Anytime else, I don’t care. I have no shame, so go for it.” 

They reached for the journal on their nightstand, single-handedly flipping to their schedule to verify something. They repeated the dates and times aloud. “Any other time, have at it. Even then, I don’t really _care_ … but just remember that not every human has the same ‘habits’, or routines, as I do.” 

Zim waved his hand, making a note of the times, but not truly caring about them. “Yes, yes. Zim will do as he pleases while watching over your human routines.” 

Sol let out a sigh of relief, letting themselves sink into the cushions supporting them. 

Wasting no time, Zim pulled out a few surveillance drones from his PAK, having them distribute themselves throughout the home and attach at various vantage points. He held up the communicator on his forearm, checking the feeds for a moment before rising on his PAK legs and skittering over to adjust one in the upper corner of the bedroom manually so it gave a better view of the entire room. He grumbled his frustrations in Irken, cursing quietly at the drones’ inaccuracy. 

All the while, Sol adjusted, so they were now leaning forward, watching the alien in amazement as it (he?) went to work placing the foreign technology and perfecting it. The strange language stuck out to them, catching their sensitive ears as they practically fell off the bed trying to listen to it. 

Zim turned around, hauteur on his face as he watched the human catch themselves on the nightstand. “What is it NOW, human? I’m more than happy to go with my original plans.” 

Sol shook their head awkwardly, slipping a hand to the back of their neck and rubbing it slightly. They smiled, unabashed. “Sorry, I was trying to hear you better. I thought you were saying something. You were yelling earlier, and suddenly you were murmuring just now, so I couldn’t hear you anymore. Then I realized it was in a, uh, unfamiliar language. And I just… thought it was…” They paused, trying to think of the right phrase. “Pretty? More delicate than English, I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I can recognize cussing in any language! But the language itself is neat. I couldn’t help trying to listen to you.” 

Zim’s antennae twitched in approval, satisfaction at the praise of his native language softening his appearance as pride dripped from every pore. 

“Yes. The Irken language is much more intricate than anything like you brutish humans have ever come up with, isn’t it?” 

Sol’s head tilted. “Is that what you are? Irken?” 

Zim squinted slightly, realizing his flub-up. He crossed his arms, lowering down until he was hanging at face level with the human. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you _some_. But do not let your curiosity annoy me or I’ll get rid of you for snooping!” Zim pointed an accusatory finger at their nose, getting a nod in response. 

His hand waved dismissively. “But yes, my species is known as the Irkens, a GREAT and POWERFUL people who are feared throughout the multiverse. Your species is just so technologically stunted and stupid, they truly think they are alone on this dirt wad, floating through space.”

“Huh. Cool.” Sol stared at the Irken in wonder, their comfort level rising slightly now that their immediate life didn’t seem in danger. 

The human’s curiosity seemingly sated, Zim dropped to his feet, letting his PAK legs retract into their proper place on his back. Regret surged through him as pain radiated in his leg, making him grunt and hunch over. He’d been so preoccupied with his human quarry that he had forgotten about his accursed bite from the smelly goat-creature earlier. Glancing down, he saw that it was already beginning to heal. Normally an excellent thing, but as of now, quite regrettable. It was doing so with his clothing still in the wound and was looking relatively… gooey thanks to that fact. 

Watching the Irken hunch in painful annoyance, Sol noticed the minor injury on his leg as he stared at it. Rising from their bed, they pointed towards their bathroom with their thumb from over their shoulder. 

“Hey, that doesn’t look too great. If you give me a sec I can at least wrap it up for you. I mean, if you want?” 

Zim recoiled, turning his nose, or what would be his nose if he had one, up at the offer. His antennae slicked back against his head as he spoke. “As if I would accept help from some human-squishy! Besides, this is nothing to a mighty Irken!” He crossed his arms pointedly. 

Sol nodded soothingly, agreeing just to satiate the martian’s ego. “Okay. Point taken. But, how about I at least clean it up? That’s all I mean. That way it won’t get all germy and gross before you head back to… wherever.”

At the mention of germs, Zim shuddered. He gave a defeated sigh, annoyance clear on his features. Waltzing as delicately as possible towards the human, which turned out to be more of a hobble, he turned his face away, waiting next to them expectantly. 

He tapped his foot indignantly. 

“Well? Lead the way, human.”

Sol found themself unable to hide the slight smirk at the change in demeanor. Turning away, they led the alien down the hallway and to the small bathroom, which felt increasingly claustrophobic with two occupants. Thankfully, the alien was not overly large, even when standing fully erect; Sol had noticed while leading him slowly to the enclosed space. While they themselves were relatively… vertically lacking, totalling in at an entire 5 feet tall, the Irken was merely at their shoulder height. If they’d had to make a guess, he couldn’t be over 4 feet tall. Interesting. 

Once in the room, Zim perched on the toilet seat readily, propping up his injured leg on the sink and swinging his good leg freely as he whistled a tune to himself, still keeping a discreet eye on the human. 

The alien’s comfort in his surroundings only gave Sol momentary pause, quickly recovering and grabbing a washcloth from the stack in the cabinet. They began to turn the knob on the faucet, about to dip their cloth-covered hand under the warm stream when a gloved hand gripped their wrist, almost to the point of pain. 

Sol’s eyes focused on the tight grip around their forearm, following the harsh grasp until their gaze met anxious looking ruby eyes, despite the alien’s annoyed expression. 

“No water.” 

The words were short and concise. An order given with no room for argument. 

Sol swallowed slightly but gave a comforting look, smiling as best as possible. 

“No water. Got it. Not a problem. Is alcohol okay?” 

The Irken visibly relaxed and sat back, leaning against the back of the toilet as he nodded. 

Quietly turning the faucet so the water would recede, Sol grabbed the bottle of alcohol and instead dampened the towel with it. Settling on the edge of the sink, they inspected the alien’s leg, carefully trying to pull the foreign material from the mark with as gentle of a hand as possible. Clearish-pink goo oozed from the welt where what seemed to be… were those teeth marks? Did this guy get bitten by something? Sol barely contained a snort of laughter, catching the alien’s attention.

Covering their infraction, they cleared their throat, moving to gently clean the bite. The alien squirmed under each touch, just barely, but enough that Sol was sure it was stinging. 

“So, it’s Zim, right? Is that your name?” Sol glanced towards the Irken, meeting his eyes as his attention flicked to their voice. 

Zim nodded, grinning. “That is correct, human! I am Zim! And I am the Mightiest of the Irken Armada’s Elite Invaders!” 

Sol pulled the cloth away, turning their attention to his leg as the corner of their mouth quirked. He was definitely an eccentric little alien, albeit repetitive. But maybe that wasn’t so bad. 

They pulled out a roll of gauze and bandaged the wound while they distracted Zim again.

“You can call me Sol. It’s not my birth name, but... it’s what I like to be called. I’d prefer if you didn’t just call me human and stuff like that, but I really can’t stop you.” 

Finishing the wrap on his leg, they carefully tied it off, satisfied with the result. Looking back to the alien’s face, they smiled again, genuinely, as their eyes met. 

Zim inspected the crude wrap on his leg with a quick glance. While primitive, by all means it was a decent job and good enough for what he needed. He caught the human’s stare as he branded their name into his memory. 

Not for any reason other than convenience, he would later argue with himself. 

But he couldn’t deny the urge in the back of his mind to speak up and tell the human it was a good name. That it was actually an Irken name on his home world.

Maybe that would explain his reaction to it. 

Instead, he stood on slightly steadier feet, pausing only briefly as he passed the human, Sol, to nod his head in acknowledgment, barely turning his head so he could get a final glance at them with his superior ocular implants, his peripheral vision being unparalleled. 

“Zim thanks you for tending to his leg. I will be checking in soon. Do not think of betraying me or I’ll turn your hands into weasels.”


	3. Chapter 3

Unsurprisingly, Zim arrived home to find Gir in his favorite spot, on the couch, covered in an obscene amount of nachos and cheese, and Irk knew what else that the little robot had added to the repulsive food cocoon. 

“Master! Welcome home!” 

The tiny bot launched from its spot, gooey food bits clinging to its body as it ran towards Zim, cackling excitedly. Zim shuddered in revulsion and stepped back, shielding himself with his hands. 

“GIR! Did you prepare the medical bay, like I requested?!” 

Gir froze mid-movement, stopping to ponder to himself. “Uhhhhh, nope!” 

He giggled and scuttered back to the couch, taking a bite of the food that was now dripping down the couch cushions. “I saved you some nachos, though!” 

Zim cringed, frustration building. “No, GIR, I don’t want any nachos! Now clean up this mess! I’ll be down below. Don’t disturb me.” 

The malfunctioning SIR unit gave a thumbs up of affirmation before eating another mouthful of the questioningly abomination, grabbing the television remote and cranking up the volume all the way on whatever show it had been watching before its Master had interrupted. 

Zim grumbled, making his way to the kitchen and stepping into the false trash can, automatically being transported down to the appropriate level of his base with a simple command. Making his way into the medical bay, he pressed a series of buttons on the main console; within moments a medical table rose in the center of the room, as well as a table with a tray of assorted tools. Without a single word, he moved to prop himself on the table, inspecting the bandage job the human had done earlier. 

He’d never tell them, but it wasn’t bad for a field level patch job, at least by Earth standards, he reasoned. Peeling away the bandages, he placed them on the medical tray next to him; he raised himself enough to remove the ruined leggings as well, chucking them away disdainfully towards a nearby bin. 

Finally having an unobstructed view of his injury again, he raised his leg to look at it. Surprisingly, it was doing much better than he expected. The slight infection that had started to set in earlier was already clearing. ‘Probably due to it being disinfected…’ he mused. 

The Irken frowned at the thought. Grabbing one of the tools from the medical table and spraying on a healing ointment that would aid the healing process, spreading it up even more. Within the hour, he wouldn’t even have a blemish. 

Looking down at his tunic and bare legs, he frowned. He peeled off the tunic, tossing it with the leggings.

“Computer! Incinerate this uniform and bring me a new one! This one was contaminated.” 

“Ugh! Fiiiiiine!” The mechanical voice rang out through the room moments before it presented a new uniform to him. Grabbing the unblemished clothing, he redressed carefully, the mechanical voice startling him. 

“Shall I incinerate the soiled bandaging as well, Sir?” 

Zim’s antennae flicked, his eyes moving to stare at the bandaging on the medical table near him for a moment. He paused, his mind turning. 

“Yes, Computer. Proceed with standard medical bay sanitation procedures. Take me to the Observation Deck.” 

Perhaps it was his distinct lack of his usual gusto, but the computer AI didn’t retort as it usually would.

Just as the Irken finished tugging on his gloves, a circle opened in the floor below him, raising upwards and elevating him through his base until he was brought to the Observation Deck, as ordered. 

Seating himself in the plush chair facing the assortment of enormous screens, he raised his forearm, tapping the communicator on it until it linked up to the monitors, finally connecting the feed that gave a real time view of the human’s home. 

Zim leaned back, crossing his knees and clasping his hands together in thought as his eyes darted between each screen until he found what he was looking for. 

There. Sleeping soundly again in their bed, as if their encounter had never taken place, was the human. Sol. 

Zim’s antennae twitched as he watched them stir, rolling over and burrowing deeper into the recesses of their blankets until they were barely visible. All that he could make out from the wrinkled form now was a single hand poking out from under the covers, dangling over the edge of their bedding. 

His fingers steepled together as he watched them, his eyes narrowing. Unlike humans, Irkens seldom needed sleep. Something he mentally thanked his superior biology for in that moment. 

“Now to see what this Sol-human is _really_ like.”

»————- ☀ ————-«

Sol woke from a restless slumber, sitting up in their bed and groaning at the morning light that filtered into the room, oppressively bright against their tired eyes. Smacking their lips, they cringed, noting the distinctly carpeted feeling in their mouth.

“Gross, I don’t think I remembered to brush my teeth last night... Bleck.” 

They leaned over and felt around under their bed, making a relieved noise when their fingers finally found the water bottle that they vaguely remembered losing at some point underneath it. Swinging their feet over the edge of the bed, they cracked the lid, taking a deep swig, thankful for the alleviation from awful morning mouth. 

As they sat there, their sleep addled thoughts began to clear, memories of their late night encounter rising to the forefront of their mind. 

Re-capping the bottle, they stood up, pacing over to where they recalled the alien placing one of the cameras in their home. Sure enough, a bug-like camera clung to the upper corner of their wall, just discreet enough that they wouldn’t notice it if they had been none the wiser. 

So it HADN’T been an elaborate dream. 

They hummed quietly to themself, tilting their head before smiling at the camera, giving it a half-hearted salute. 

“Good morning, Zim. I hope you slept well. I figure it’s safe to assume you have audio on this thing.” 

Unbeknownst to them, back at his base, the little Irken jumped in his seat, leaning forward at the mention of his name. He couldn’t help but think how strange the human was to address him when he had no means of replying.

“Of course I can hear you, HUMAN. The Almighty ZIM is no SMEET who would forget something so basic…” He half yelled to himself, watching as the human turned away from the monitor and began tending to their day. 

Having confirmed that their memories weren’t a strange fever dream, Sol grabbed their phone, scrolling through their music until they selected a playlist they were satisfied with, letting the melody flow through the house as they began their morning routine. 

‘I hope Zim likes music.’ They chuckled at the thought. 

Moving to the kitchen, they grabbed the plastic med tray from the counter, popping open the ‘morning’ tab and dumping the pills into the palm of their outstretched hand. Crouching in front of the mini fridge near to them, they pulled out a cardboard carton that read ‘OJ! IT’S GOOD!’ and took a swig, using the aforementioned juice to down the medication with practiced ease. 

Rising back up, they proceeded to make themself breakfast; a simple plate of eggs and toast. Bringing it, as well as the carton of ‘good OJ’ to their room, they sat cross-legged in their computer chair. Biting into the toast, they reached for the journal on their nightstand, flipping it open to a page that had various checkmarks and X’s on it. 

Checking the current date, they marked off the slots for their morning meds and meal, making a note of their choice. 

After years of struggling with pretty serious brain fog and memory issues, they had found that journaling and keeping track of little things like this helped them form a routine; a way to keep track of if they had done the necessary things to keep themselves functioning at a healthy level. It was the little things that added up, after all. They had learned that the hard way. 

Flipping the notebook shut, they tossed it back to it’s designated spot on the table, returning their attention to the quickly cooling meal as they powered up their computer. 

It didn’t take them long to pull up their homepage for the adult site they hosted themselves on. Checking their messages and replying to any of major importance, they proceeded to make a few morning updates; posting some photo sets for sale that they had readily prepared to feature, as well as sending out a reminder of their upcoming live show, bumping the theme poll they had set up for it, and making a status update. Staying interactive with their watchers kept them coming back, afterall. 

Within the hour, their morning routine was complete, as well as their meal long since polished off. 

Spinning in their chair, they leaned back, debating how to spend the rest of their morning. Checking the time on their monitor, they did some quick mental math. There was still a good 5 hours until their stream today, which gave them plenty of time to get ready, even if the more elaborate theme, involving applying a fair bit of body paint for their cosplay, was necessary. 

Caving to boredom, they logged onto their gaming server, deciding to see if anyone from their clan was playing on their favorite MMORPG, World of Doomcraft. They chuckled, thoroughly unsurprised to see the user V0X3LR0T online already. A female gamer that Sol had befriended during a raid, she was on often, and was nearly always top on the leaderboards. 

Sol put on their headset and logged in to the chat, already laughing into the mic. 

“Hey ROT, how did I know you’d already be on? What’s up? Grinding or raiding?” 

A gravely, female voice replied, annoyance in her tone, despite the brief inflection when greeting Sol. 

“Yo, sup, Saturn. I WAS raiding, but these idiot pleebs can’t back me up for shit. Wanna help me out so I can snag the new werepiggy armor set drop? My stupid brother was supposed to help but he won’t wake the hell up. Stayed out all night again or something.” 

The sound of something hitting a door resounded in the background briefly. Probably the young woman hurling something at her brother’s door. If Sol remembered, they were roommates. They had heard the girl’s complaints more than once about the ‘annoying’ habits he apparently had. 

Sol chuckled again, clicking accept on the team invite. “Yeah, I got a few hours to burn. Let’s show these wieners how the pros do it.” 

“Fuck yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a short one, but it's because I wanted to go ahead and get it up early~   
> Any observations? Guesses?  
> I hope everyone enjoyed the teasers at the end; they WILL be expanded upon in future chapters!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we get our first smidge of smut!  
> Just enough to wet the appetite. 
> 
> Also, a disclaimer that while, yes, there is influence in the camming and chat scenes from actual chat sites, I purposely took artistic liberties with how it is presented.  
> I don't want to give anyone who hasn't been involved on adult chats false ideas of what camming is like. So while some things are accurate to real life experiences, keep in mind that this story will always have a degree of fantasy element! 
> 
> I hope that everyone reading this still thoroughly enjoys the story and how Sol and her work are portrayed~

“Thanks for the assist. This armor if fucking sweet. I can’t wait to use the perks to really up my game.” 

Sol grinned, pulling their foot down from the top of their computer desk where it was propped comfortably. 

“Anytime, ROT.” They glanced at the corner of their screen, noting the time and sighing. “I gotta get going and get ready, though. Gotta stream soon. Can’t leave my fans waiting; you know how it is.” 

The girl snickered. “Yeah, yeah. Go shake it to make it. I think I hear the idiot finally waking up, anyway. I better make sure he showers, so he doesn’t stink up the place.” 

Just as Sol heard the girl yelling, at what they assumed was their brother, they clicked out of the chat, the sound cutting off with a soft ‘blip’. Spinning in their chair, they hummed quietly. 

Stopping the chair so it faced their monitor, they pulled up their profile, checking the final tally on their poll, so they knew which outfit to put on for tonight’s show. Smiling, they silently thanked the fact that it was the simpler of the two. To make up for it, maybe they’d do a surprise 1:1 time slot giveaway since they were feeling good. 

Bouncing out of their chair, they made their way to the bathroom, pausing as they glanced at one of the cameras observing their living quarters. They silently wondered if Zim would indeed watch in, or if he would respect their request. They didn’t truly _care_... they just weren’t sure how much he would understand. How much they would have to explain. 

They shrugged, leaving their bathroom door open out of habit and turning the water on as they mused on the thought. Maybe they were overthinking the entire thing. 

Slipping quickly out of their comfy clothes, they stepped into the shower, a content groan escaping them as they washed, planning out what they needed to go about doing in their pre-show routine.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Dib slammed the alarm on his phone, groaning tiredly. He had only arrived home what felt like mere hours before, dragging himself in as the sun crept over the edges of the rooftops, signaling the start of a fresh day. His hunt for the ever evasive chupacabra had been, sadly, in vain; even more so because Zim had flubbed up one of the primary traps he’d set up for the creature. Knowing his luck, that had probably scared the creature away, ruining weeks of staking out its latest territory, according to what Dib’s recent studies had found.

A single eye cracked open as he vaguely overheard Gaz talking to someone in voice chat all the way from her room. 

‘Oh, crap… what day is it?’ He grabbed his phone and checked the date, remembering the release of the new WoD armor his scary younger sister had been anticipating, and his promise to raid with her upon its release, so she could be among the first to sport it in game. 

He rubbed his face, whining softly. 

“Oh, she’s gonna KILL me… maybe if I buy her some more Poop Ultra she won’t completely boobytrap the house again…” 

Setting a reminder in his phone to pick up the gamer themed soda, he pulled himself from his bed, barely fighting its siren’s call to curl back up and return to a dead slumber. 

Slinking from his room, he tried to slip into the bathroom without alerting the terrifying younger woman, but to no avail. A loud voice shouted at him as a boot came flying full force at his head. 

“You dipped again, you dick! Stop staying out all the time. Yeah, it’s great not having you home, but don’t cave on a promise. You’re lucky I have friends that are cooler than you even on your best day.” 

Gaz sneered from her doorway, leaning against it and crossing her arms. If looks could kill, he’d be dead twice over. 

“Okay! Jeez, I get it, I’m sorry. I was so close, Gaz. You don’t get it. If only Zim had come along-”

Gaz rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Dib. Don’t forget to shower this time. You smell like goat again.” 

Slamming her door, the sound of video game fire shortly resounded again, the bass booming with each hit. 

Dib half shouted over the noise, despite knowing he wouldn’t be heard. “I already was going to before someone interrupted me!” 

Grumbling under his breath, he washed up, attempting to be thorough while also quick about his task. Making record time, he darted back into his room, closing and locking the door before settling at his computer. 

He looked at the Bigfoot themed calendar on his desk, double checking the day of the week, before glancing at the time on his monitor. His heart pounded in his chest, anticipation and a slight streak of perverse guilt flowing in his veins. 

There wasn’t much in his life he was ashamed of. He proudly wore on his sleeve his study of the paranormal. Or, that he had spent nearly half his life in and push and pull banter with an alien he had sworn to protect the Earth from. 

Hell, he managed to get himself a full scholarship to a nearby college on the premise of a Cognitive Science degree solely so he could minor in Parapsychology and Paranormal Studies. 

Not much shook him. 

But he had a distinct guilty pleasure he couldn’t shake. One that only Gaz had ever been talked to about, in a drunken stupor, asking if he was strange for his attraction, and even she didn’t know the extent of his… interest. 

Dib bit his lip as he pulled up the adult chat site, navigating to the favorited profile that read ‘SaturnAmbrosia’. A space themed loading page that read ‘Enter Saturn’s Orbit’ popped up for a moment, before a still screen, hosting links to various new photo sets appeared. The words ‘Live Feed Incoming! Check me out while you wait!’ were in a bold font, a kitschy space font across the top of the screen. 

The live chat log on the side of the screen was already filling up with regular members, used to the cam-person’s scheduled showtimes, anticipating the live show that would air within the next few minutes. 

Already, Dib’s dick twitched in excitement. He couldn’t help but eye the newest photo set, which had apparently been posted earlier that day. While tempted, he knew his bank account would hate him for it. Chewing his lip, he let out a groan, pulling his hand away from the mouse. 

“Not right now. Patience. Next time.” 

He watched the various members typing in the chat, already thirsting and excited, echoing his carnal thoughts. 

“Fuck it. I don’t care. For all I know, the planet could explode tomorrow. Carpe frickin’ diem.” 

He clicked purchase on the photo set, already filled with a euphoric high as he clicked through the full set, no longer taunted by teasers. Something to wet his palette while he waited. 

He unbuckled his pants, leaning back in his chair as he released his hardening member from their forsaken confines. A raged sigh escaped his lips as he used one hand to click through the photos, languidly stroking himself until he was fully hard.

A whine worked up, stuck in his throat as he considered just stroking himself to completion now, but he quickly decided against it. This wasn’t **why** he liked watching them. It was a fuck of a bonus. But it wasn’t why. 

He swept his thumb over his slit, smearing pre-cum across it before giving himself a slight squeeze. Pulling away his hand, his cock twitched angrily at the loss of contact. 

Dib let out another frustrated groan, leaning back and neglecting his poor cock in favor of simply enjoying his latest indulgence. 

Before long, his ears perked up, his body lunging up to sit forward eagerly as the ping of his favorite person logged onto their chat. 

There they were. Smiling, greeting everyone. 

His Saturn. 

His Ambrosia.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Sol sat at their computer, doing the finishing touches on their costume before entering their stream. Thankfully, the blonde wig from before didn’t need any different styling for their costume, and minimal makeup was necessary. A blue and silver hood draped over their head and shoulders, gently tracing over the tips of the prosthetic elf ears they had put on.

The costume itself was revealing, but had plenty of flowing layers that emphasized their curves. Lots of individual pieces they could take off one at a time, keeping people waiting and watching. 

They carefully placed a few props around them to really sell the character, before making sure that an assortment of toys was well within reach, that they could choose from. Making one last check of their cameras and lighting, they nodded to themself, selecting an appropriate playlist for tonight. 

In the back of their mind, the thought of giving a warning to the Irken who was possibly watching them flashed in their thoughts, but decided against it. Not much point, they figured. 

Sure enough, watching through a feed of his own, Zim eyed the human in their strange disguise curiously. He had left the feed at various points to attend necessary details and duties, growing bored watching the human sit around and play video games for hours. It had tempted him to play, himself. He was no stranger to the game, though he preferred games from off world, with their advanced technology interfaces. 

Strangely enough, their disguise vaguely reminded him of one of the characters from the very game they had been playing earlier. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was intentional. Many Earth children dressed up as characters from games on the accursed Halloween holiday, after all. 

He looked at his computer. It wasn’t Halloween, yet. Maybe this human was just stupid.

The Irken hummed, leaning closer to the monitor as he watched the human address their computer. 

Clicking into the feed, Sol smiled cheerily, noting the influx of viewers as they entered. 

They waved, putting their charm on to the max. No matter how they were feeling, they felt like they had a duty to be there for their watchers. Their stream may be primarily an adult themed one, but they had a reputation for being friendly and approachable. They made friends with people and interacted with them. 

“Hey, everyone! SaturnAmbrosia, tuning it! Wow, so many people were waiting on me! I’m sorry I took so long, I wanted to make sure I had tonight’s theme just right! I know you all were as excited for it as me. It’s lucky for me you picked this one! I was actually playing WoD earlier today. I managed to get the new Werepiggy Armor, isn’t that cool? Who else has been hyped for it?” 

A flurry of people typed into the chat. While a good number of them immediately were begging them to reveal themselves, the regular members replied to their questions with gusto. 

Sol replied both out loud and in chat to various comments and questions, laughing and getting into their online persona with practiced ease. As members donated, they would occasionally remove something from the costume, occasionally doing so casually, while other times, making a show of removing a piece, especially after an especially large donation. 

As the chat session progressed, and they found themselves in just the character themed lingerie, they tilted their head playfully at the camera. 

“Alright, everyone, we’re almost at tonight’s goal! I’m going to start getting comfortable! Once we make our amount, we can get on with the _fun_ part of the show! I know you guys are just as anxious for it as I am~” They let their tone purr, sultry sweet to tempt the countless people watching them.

As they swapped the camera feed, they situated themself more comfortably on their bed, their entire body fully within view. Giving the camera a thoughtful nod, they decided to go along with the plan they had been mulling over earlier. They held up a finger. 

“Also! Afterwards, I’ll be announcing a surprise giveaway! So everyone out there has something extra to get excited about!” 

Sure enough, a flood of donations trickled in. All at once though, a notification for a large donation chimed, the username glowing as the person donated the rest of the amount needed to reach their goal amount. 

Sol blinked before a smile split their face. A familiar username was the one that had done the gracious deed. Crawling towards the camera, they laid on their belly and blew a kiss. 

“I’d like to give a special thanks and shout out to our one and only CryptidHunter for their generous donation! We can now get on with the show!”

A mass of comments flew in, half of which thanked the user for the donation and the subsequent show, while the others heckled the poor guy. 

Sol flipped themselves over, running their hands over their breasts slowly, slipping the thin fabric of the bralette down and tweaking their nipples. 

From here on out was easy sailing. They only had to keep a loose eye on the chat for troublemakers and for occasional requests and input, in case someone put forth another large donation with a particular request. If they were lucky, they could just take their time getting off, and their evening would be done. 

Being sure to allow themself to be vocal, they slipped a hand downwards, under the fabric of their panties and rubbed small circles into their clit. 

After a few moments, once they had worked themself up enough that they knew they were well and slick, they turned around, making a show of drawing down the fabric of the panties for their viewers. Reaching over, they grabbed a moderately sized vibrator, vaguely phallic in shape, but obviously molded to look more like the cock of some fantasy creature than a human penis. A shudder ran through them as they reached back, slowly splitting their folds with the toy and using it to spread their slick essence across their entire sex. 

“What do you think, everyone? Is this the one tonight?” They huffed out, pressing their cheek to the comforter and glancing at the feed. Various responses begging and ordering them to fuck themselves with the toy resounded at the question. 

A smile spread across their face. “Who am I to argue? I’ve got to give my fans what they want~” 

Pressing the toy slowly into their cunt, they groaned out in ecstasy, every inch of them suddenly being filled. Quickly withdrawing the toy, they started a slow rhythm, fucking themselves leisurely, ass lifted high and in full view. They continued as a familiar heat began to build in their core; not enough to bring them to the edge, but enough to rile them up, leaving them wanting more. 

Raising their body up, they repositioned onto their knees, facing the camera. Lowering their body down onto the toy again, they rode it hungrily. Reaching over, they grabbed the remote for the toy, pointedly showing it to the camera as they turned it up, choosing to crank it to a decently high setting right away. 

Sure enough, the feeling of strong vibrations, pressed flush with their G-spot made stars bloom behind their eyes, a loud cry pulling from their throat. Slamming down on the toy, they paused, flush against it, catching their breath before returning to riding the toy again. 

Leaning forward, resting their weight on their hands, they ground down against the toy, swirling their hips. A harsh moan left them as they tilted their head back, their eyes fluttering shut. The feeling of the wig hair tickled their lower back as they bounced, gaining a rhythm that finally was tightening the glorious coil in their belly.

One eye slipped to the chat quickly, gauging the tone. Multiple requests of playing with themself as they rode the toy, and making themself cum echoed in the chat. Including an ardent plea from the generous patron who had so graciously donated earlier. 

Smiling, they forced themselves fully up again, their body on full display. One hand slipped to fondle a partially exposed breast again as the other slid to their cunt. They pinched and tweaked at their clit, their eyebrows pressing together as all of the combined stimulation became quickly overwhelming. 

Their hips shook, their legs quickly beginning to grow weak as they neared their climax. Desperate pants and moans filled the room like a chorus as the building tightness within them neared bursting. Finally, as they flicked their finger over their clit, pressing down onto the toy one last time, white hot pleasure overcame them in waves, ebbing through them and making their toes clench. Their head tilted back as they arched, nearly falling backwards, catching themself with the hand that had previously been caressing their breast. Their hips involuntarily rut against the toy, dragging out the orgasm for a few more tortuous moments. A slight giggle at the painful pleasure ripped from their throat as they took a breath, looking to the camera. 

“Whoo! Okay… gotta give me a sec to get my sea legs back tonight guys!” They laughed again, removing the toy from their sticky folds with a shudder before shakily making their way to the computer chair. 

Pulling their bare knees to their chest, they smiled and waved, briefly swapping the view to their primary camera. 

“Okay… now, I’m gonna go ahead and clean up! But before I do, I know I promised a giveaway! So I just wanted to let our good pal CryptidHunter know that, as thanks for funding so much of tonight’s stream, they’re eligible for a free 1:1 session! I’ll be doing another free 1:1 giveaway for one more random person; anyone who buys my new photoset within the next 48 hours will be entered to win! So, CryptidHunter, shoot me a message sometime in the next 24 hours to talk about that! And everyone else, good luck and good night!” 

Signing off of the stream, Sol let out a small sigh. They were still riding post-orgasmic bliss, but were mentally and emotionally drained from streaming for the past few hours. 

Standing up, they grabbed the toy they had been using and picked up the various bits of costume, tidying up and going about their post-show cleanup. 

Cleanup, food, a bath, and then sleep were well deserved.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Dib sprawled back in his computer chair, his heart pounding a mile a minute. His now flaccid cock sat limply in his lap, well spent and satiated. Evidence of his activities still sat cooling on his hand and stomach. Usually by now he would have quickly disposed of the mess, but instead he leaned there, still in a daze.

“Holy shit… I get a private session... With Saturn-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you all liking things so far?  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated, and give me life!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with some bonding moments?   
> You betcha.   
> Donuts are the way to anyone's heart after all.

Sitting in the overly enormous chair of his observation deck, Zim was… befuddled. 

The acts he’d just watched the human perform were unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. It left a strange feeling in his belly; a squirmy, unfamiliar feeling that he had never experienced before. He didn’t know what to make of it. 

Squinting, he decided definitively that it must have made him sick. Horribly, **disgustingly** sick. It was the only explanation. Though some flickering thought in the back of his mind didn’t mind the feeling, he found. It wasn’t painful, so much as foreign… unfamiliar. 

But foreign and unfamiliar were bad. 

And anything caused by a human was **definitely** bad. 

He buried down the feelings, still trying to wrap his mind around what the act had even been. In his time on Earth he had since learned that humans were one of the species in the infinite galaxies that fornicated for pleasure, sure, but this human had no partner, and seemed to experience coital bliss all the same. 

And doing so while in a communication with someone, or multiple someones, else at that. 

He decided to do some research. But where to begin? He hummed and hawed audibly, deliberating on it for more time than he would ever admit before jumping up and kicking the computer console. 

“Damn it all! I will just ask the Sol-human myself! Forget this pointless wondering!” 

Zim stormed out of the room, stopping briefly to glance at the feed and look at the human. By now they were sound asleep in their bed again, the day long since over. 

The Irken let out a frustrated yell. “Sleeping again ALREADY?? Stupid humans with their pitiful need for SLEEP. FINE. I will go in the morning. But ONLY because ZIM so chooses!” He pointed at the human on the screen, some part of him hoping the human could feel his irritation through the screen. 

When they made no move in their slumber though, he turned around, his boots squeaking against the floor as he left the observation deck. Making his way to his personal quarters, he tore through the various disguises he had built up over the years, slowly building his horde. If he would not go under cover of night, he would at least need one of his disguises, which meant using just the right one… May as well use his time wisely and select it now.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Sol awoke the following morning to the sound of… shouting? They rolled over groggily, raising themself up on their arms and knees before finally pushing up into a kneeling position in their bed. Blinking around the room, they looked for the source of the sound.

On their second sweep, their eyes finally focused on a short young… man? Was that an adolescent man in their room? They rubbed their eyes for a moment, focusing on the voice. 

“I said WAKE UP YOU SMELLY HUMAN!” 

Recognition set it as Sol squinted, taking in the form standing next to their bed, arms crossed in annoyance. 

“Zim? Is that you? What are you doing in my room?” 

They reached over and grabbed their phone, clicking on the screen and registering that it read 5:47 AM. 

“And what the fuck are you doing here before 6 in the morning?” 

Zim’s chest puffed up at the exasperated tone. 

“Your Earth sun rose over 17 minutes ago! The day has already begun! Zim is not here at an unreasonable time!” 

Sol’s hand rubbed their face, dragging down it with a sigh. They flopped back onto their bed, groaning. 

“Zim, it is too early to be ALIVE, oh my god. Let me SLEEP. I have two entire hours before my alarm goes off.”

Zim huffed in displeasure. “And just what would you have Zim do while you slept away your short Earth life?” 

Sol cracked an eye open, grumbling for a moment. Sitting back up, they swung their legs over their bed. “Fine. Fine! Fuck it, I’m already awake… might as well make use of it…” They yawned tiredly. “But you gotta wait for me to finish waking up and finishing my morning routine. I gotta do some shopping today anyway…” 

“You would have the great ZIM wait on YOU?!”

Sol grinned, mostly to themselves. “Well, let that be a lesson in waking me up. A bonus, though… I think that great donut place is just opening up. Oh man, I haven’t had a fresh morning batch in forever. Maybe I should grab some…” 

Zim’s antennae wiggled under his wig at the mention of donuts. It was one of the few Earth foods that translated from his Irken home world, and he found he quite enjoyed them. The mention of them made his stomach audibly gurgle. 

Sol glanced at the alien, at the sound, chuckling, but biting their tongue. 

The Irken looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Fine. Hurry with your preparations so we may procure your precious donuts and shopping!” 

Sol chuckled, ignoring how he had invited himself. They would enjoy the company, after all. But how would he… that was when his different appearance fully registered in their mind. 

The alien life form no longer looked so... well, alien. While he still sported his green-toned skin, his antennae were hidden under a full head of ebony hair. His formerly ruby red eyes suddenly were distinctly ‘human’. As if to pull the illusion together, he sported an overly large hoodie, similar in color to his outfit from the other night, hiding the strange pack on his back. It sported a face-like logo across the front of the hoodie, though Sol couldn’t identify quite what it was. 

Sol looked him up and down, taking it all in for a moment. This must be how he blended into human society, they assumed. 

“Wow… you look… different.” 

Zim looked at the human with a quirked brow. “Of course! Do you expect Zim to walk around in plain sight like a Schlorplop in a Donpoop hive?!” 

Sol squinted in confusion at the obviously alien reference. 

“Uh… okay. No clue what that is, but point taken…” They rose from their bed, cracking their back and making their way to their kitchen. 

Zim followed at their heels, never straying far as he watched the human follow a nearly identical routine to the one he had observed the morning before. He watched as they distributed a ration of pills, taking them quickly before opening up a cabinet and pulling out a small tin. 

Well, that was different. 

The alien watched curiously, stiffening and growing suspicious when he saw them pull out a vial and needles. 

“What do you think you are doing, Earth-Stink?!” 

Zim sneered accusingly, bracing himself as he eyed the needle. 

Sol glanced over to the alien in confusion before looking down at the item in their hands, continuing on with opening the sterile pack. 

“Oh! This! Calm down, Zim. This isn’t for you, it’s for me.” 

“Hmmmm??” 

Zim watched with growing confusion as he watched the human draw from the vial, swapping out the needle and sitting themselves on the countertop. After cleaning a small patch on their leg, they stabbed the new needle into the muscle of their thigh, injecting the solution before slapping a star-shaped bandaid over the spot. 

Sol smiled gently at Zim as they hopped down off the counter, disposing of the needle in their sharps container before letting out a tiny sigh, figuring they would need to explain. 

“Alright, you didn’t seem freaked out by my meds, so I’m assuming you know some humans have to take medication.” 

Zim nodded along, humming. 

“Well, this is kinda like medicine… I take hormones, you see? That’s what is in the vial. It helps my body change, to look on the outside how I feel on the inside. Basically.” They showed Zim the vial, letting him hold it and read the label. They figured a simple explanation was best for the moment. 

Zim rolled the vial between his fingers, considering the explanation. He hadn’t realized there were humans who could, or would choose to, administer naturally produced hormones to themselves. He would need to ask more in-depth questions about that later on. He found this recent information intriguing. 

Monitoring this human was already proving useful, it seemed. 

He handed the vial back, nodding. 

“Zim understands now. Thank you for explaining, human.” 

Sol smiled, taking the vial back and replacing it into their HRT box. 

“Of course, Zim. I’m always happy to answer any questions.”

Zim's question about the evening before came to mind. His mouth began to open when he suddenly remembered them distinctly telling him not to watch them during that time frame. His mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t explain why, but some part of him was… ashamed. 

That couldn’t be right. Zim felt no shame! He was the one in control of the situation! 

He decided to save the question for later, nonetheless. 

Sol padded back to their room, picking up their journal and dutifully marking off that they had taken their medications, and administered their HRT for the week. They couldn’t help but notice Zim trailing behind, observing their every action still. The corner of their mouth quirked, finding his blatant curiosity almost endearing. 

“Alright, just let me get dressed and we can head out.” 

“Yes, yes. Hurry along, Zim grows impatient!” 

Sol began to dig through their clothing rack, deciding on their outfit for the day, noting how Zim made himself comfortable in their computer chair while he waited for them to finish. Well. since he didn’t seem to care, neither would they. 

Pulling out their chosen articles of clothing, they tossed them to the bed, tugging off their sleep shirt and boxers. 

As the human discarded their coverings, Zim couldn’t help but let his attention stray, his vision focusing on their briefly naked form. His eyes settled on their mammalian nipples, straying further and tracing along the plump curves of their stomach and hips. They looked so soft and supple compared to his lithe, plain form. He momentarily wondered if they felt as squishy as they looked.

The foreign feeling in his stomach from the night before returned as thoughts of their actions filled his mind. He grumbled to himself, turning the chair away and kicking his feet up onto the computer desk. He still kept watching the human as they dressed though, his superior optics able to see much farther in his peripheral vision. 

Sol quirked a brow at the alien’s strange reaction, suddenly choosing to face away so pointedly. Maybe they had read him wrong and made him uncomfortable. Oops. 

They hurried to dress faster, wriggling into their binder with a fair amount of difficulty, letting out a sound of victory once the garment was in place, their chest satisfyingly compressed. Slipping on some brightly colored leggings, they hoisted a pair of short-alls over them, only buttoning them on once they had slipped into a bare-shouldered, long sleeve shirt. 

Pacing over to a few of their wigs that were on display, they selected one that was styled to have space buns, slipping it on and adjusting the bangs and sideburns carefully. 

“Alright, let’s roll!” Sol smiled over at the alien, grabbing up a small backpack to hold their few belongings. 

Zim bounced out of the chair, thankful for their change, and the relief from his spiraling thoughts. 

“Took you long enough! Now lead the way.” He held up a curled hand, glaring halfheartedly. 

Sol chuckled lowly, leading the way out the front door, holding it open for the shorter of the two and locking the door behind them. 

The walk to the donut shop was thankfully a short one. The smell of fresh-baked goods wafted in the air, cutting through the distinctly grimy ‘city’ smell that always seemed to linger. 

Sol smiled widely, looking to the shorter being trailing ever so slightly behind them at their side.

“Smell that? I bet that's the first batch of the day! C’mon!” 

They hurried their pace, opening the door and holding it open for the alien who, if they didn’t know better, seemed to bustle in just as eagerly as they did towards the smell. 

Zim scuttered towards the front counter, crouching in front of the glass display, and couldn’t help himself from physically salivating as he eyed the fresh confections. His eyes darted between them, unable to decide what he wanted. Maybe he’d just get an enormous bag and indulge himself. 

Before he could do anything though, he noticed the human step up beside him, putting in their own order. Suddenly the worker drone behind the counter began to grab one of each of the glorious donuts he had been eyeing into a bag, one at a time, until they stuffed the overly gigantic bag to the brim. 

Zim stood up and eyed the human suspiciously, until they let out a slight laugh, hiding their mouth behind their hand. 

Sol snickered, biting their lip and ignoring the imposing look from the alien before holding up two fingers when the person working the counter grabbed the final donut. A simple glazed donut with a pink strawberry coating that said “One Tasty Boi” on the tag. The worker nodded and grabbed a second of the donut, placing it on top of the overflowing bag. 

Tacking an iced coffee on for themselves, they pulled out a few crumpled bills and paid for the immense meal, still having great difficulty in hiding their amusement. 

Picking up the iced coffee and sipping at it, they shoved the large bag into the shorter martian's arms, the corner of their mouth still upturned. 

Zim’s eyes widened as he tried to comprehend what game the human was playing, not only taunting him, but making him carry their things! How dare they! 

“Just what do you think you are doing you-” He hissed out his irritation under his breath, when he was caught off. 

Sol smirked, plucking the pink donut off the top of the overstuffed bag and taking a bite out of it, letting out a content groan as they retorted. 

“You looked like you couldn’t decide. So I got all the ones you looked like you wanted the most. Anything you can’t eat, you can save for later. My treat. You looked like you like donuts.” 

Turning on their heels, they sauntered to a booth in the eatery's corner, scooting into the seat so they were pressed against the window, so they could people watch as they enjoyed their breakfast. 

Zim’s mouth hung open as his mind danced in circles. His gaze dropped to the warm bag in his arms, squished to his chest. He snapped his mouth shut, humming slightly as he held it tighter for a moment. Marching over to the booth the human had made themself comfortable in, he pointedly sat across from them, shoving his hand into the bag and rummaging around until he found a satisfactory donut, yanking it out and stuffing it into his mouth with a satisfied groan. 

He’d never been to this establishment before, but their donuts nearly equaled those on Foodcourtia. He made a mental note to come again. 

Rummaging around again, he couldn’t help the elated grin that slipped onto his face, pulling out another confection as mumbles of satisfaction tumbled from his lips. “Delicious donuts. So Sweet.”

Sol sipped at their coffee, their eyes slipping to Zim as he enjoyed his treat. They smiled, happy that he was enjoying himself. 

“So, you can eat human food?” 

Zim stuffed another donut in his mouth, chewing slowly as he considered answering or not. Maybe it was the human’s generosity, but he was feeling generous towards them himself. 

“I can stomach _some_ of what you humans consider food on this planet. Most things are far too PUTRID for my superior Irken biology.” 

Sol nodded at the response, their curiosity growing at the half answer. They leaned forward on their elbows, cupping their chin in their hand as they munched their own donut. 

“So, what kinda stuff can you not eat? What CAN you eat? If donuts are okay, does that mean you can digest carbs?”

Zim quirked a brow, initialing stiffening, going on the defensive at the question. He eyed the human, noting the strange look in their eyes. It wasn’t a look he had encountered before… he didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t a look anyone else had given him. It wasn’t the threatening, intrusive curiosity like when he had first come to Earth that he had often gotten from the Dib-human. It wasn’t like anything he’d gotten from any other alien species. Were they just genuinely… curious? 

He slipped a gloved hand into the bag of donuts, grabbing one and looking at it for a moment, his mind trying to make sense of their intentions. 

Before he could, he found himself looking back up to them, his tone not quite as accusatory, though still holding an air of pretentiousness. 

“You’re not as stupid as other humans are, are you-” 

He took a bite of the donut, looking at it as he replied. 

“Human foods like organic ‘meats’, most dairy, and certain ‘vegetables’ are especially toxic. As well as non-purified water. Complex carbohydrates and sugars are easy to digest, and are relatively similar to food stuffs found in my home world. Anything else I haven’t bothered to find out, seeing as it is unnecessary to my... well, seeing as it is unnecessary.”

Zim’s eyes flicked away. 

Sol blinked at the detailed response. “Oh. Wow.” 

Zim turned to glare at the human. “You had better not use this information to try to harm Zim or get out of your deal with him!” 

Sol shook their head quickly. 

“No! Fuck no, dude! I was just curious. I promise, cross my heart…” 

They gnawed at their lip slightly, unsure how their idea would be received, but decided to shoot their shot anyway. 

“I actually, uh, that kind of gave me an idea, if you want to hear it?” 

Zim quirked his brow line, rumpling the top of the donut bag to save for later. 

“And just what is your brilliant idea, human?” 

Sol leaned back, nervously sucking at the last sip of their coffee. 

“Well, I gotta go get groceries, anyway. If you want to come along, since you don’t seem to care about that so far anyway, I could pick up some things and… well, if you wanna eat with me later? Maybe we could figure out some Earth foods you can eat that don’t totally fuck you up? I’m a vegetarian, so that means I don’t eat meat, anyway. Won’t even have to worry about too many dietary restrictions. If you want, that is!”

Zim began to turn his figurative nose up at the idea. 

“There is no need, my PAK provides me with any nourishment necessary. Anything I consume beyond that is completely optional-”

Sol’s eyes widened, raising their hands up and waving in apology. 

“Ah! I’m so sorry, then! I was being presumptuous. I just figured that-” 

Zim noticed the hurt and panic in the human’s eyes, a foreign feeling rising in his gut at the sight. He cut off the human’s apology before they could finish. 

“However, seeing as Zim has nothing else to attend to today, I will come along. If any of your filthy Earth food indeed makes me sick, I will be holding you directly responsible and replacing your bowels with squirming glorch beasts!” 

Sol clamped their mouth shut, unable to help the slight smile that crossed their face. They chuckled slightly at the threat. 

“Yeah... okay. That seems fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!   
> I love to rub my little goblin hands all over them while I write up the next chapter for you lovely readers~  
> What delicious thing(s) do you think Sol will be introducing Zim to?   
> A hint!   
> Sol is of Mexican heritage!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At what point do you consider grocery shopping, coffee, and getting your alien 'captor' to try various new foods a date? 
> 
> Zim may have himself pretty well convinced of his reasons for staying around, but his behavior and building interest in his human companion are quickly becoming something entirely different than anything he's ever experienced before.

Sol strode through the small grocery store’s aisles, occasionally grabbing food stuffs they knew they were growing short on and tossing them into the basket dangling from their elbow. Most of it, so far, had been their usual items. Vegetables, fruit, eggs, bread, milk, juice. The bare necessities for them to survive comfortably for the next few days. 

Glancing at the Irken marching impatiently behind them, they simpered slightly, detouring towards the baking aisle and stuffing some small bags of flour, various sugars, and last but not least, cocoa into the basket, as well. Thankfully, they had everything else they would need at home already. Especially since their basket was beginning to grow heavy compared to usual. The walk home would be a bit more tiring today, it seemed. Hopefully, it would be well worth it. 

Stopping in their tracks, they paused in front of the cans of condensed milk, pondering over what Zim had mentioned about dairy. Figuring it was worth a shot, they toppled a few cans into the cart, letting out a shallow ‘oof’ as they dropped down, weighing the basket down even further. 

“Are you nearly done, Earthling? You are taking forever!” 

Zim crossed his arms, huffing audibly as he watched the human stop repeatedly, picking and choosing their items with an amount of care that was beginning to annoy him. 

Sol adjusted the basket, holding it with both hands in front of them as they smiled, nodding contentedly. 

“Yup! Let’s go check out! Unless there’s anything you want to add in, I’m set.” 

Zim clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

“As if there is anything here I would sully my superior body with that could be found here.” 

The human rolled their eyes lightheartedly, leading the way to the self-checkout stations, always eager to avoid any amount of human interaction when possible. Dropping the basket to the floor by the register, they began to scan their items, placing them in bags as they went. 

While the human worked on completing their transaction, Zim found himself perusing the items on display by the automated area, eyeing the varieties of candies with subtle interest. His eyes widened when he spotted the familiar packaging of Fun-Dip, his gaze flicking between it and the human, still checking out their own items. 

They had said if there was anything he wanted...

Clearing his throat, he grabbed a handful of the sugary treats, placing them next to the register where they would easily be seen. He looked away, avoiding eye contact as the human turned to look at him. 

“Buy me these, human. In exchange for making me accompany you on this disgustingly boring task!” 

Sol snickered, swiping the candies across the scanner without hesitation. 

“So you like Fun-Dip too?” 

Zim puffed up his chest indignantly. 

“It happens to be nearly identical to Irken licking sticks, an extremely desired snack for my people. One of the few other things your people do right.” 

Sol held up the candy pack and hummed to themself. 

“Cool! Well, if you like those, you should try these out.” 

They leaned over and swiped up a pack of Pop Rocks and a large Pixy Stik, scanning them. Handing Zim the Pixy Stik, they smiled, ignoring the suspicious look the alien gave the plastic tube. 

“It’s like the Fun-Dip. But without a stick. Just pour a shot on your tongue and enjoy.” 

They turned back to their groceries and continued to scan the last item or two from their basket, tapping on the screen and pulling up the payment options. 

Zim glanced between the candy in his hand and the human before him, deciding whether to trust the offering. 

As the human gathered their bags, jostling them around until they were distributed satisfactorily, he slowly ripped off the top, peeking inside to see that, indeed, it merely seemed to be filled with a colored sugar-like substance. 

Sol drew their brows together in amusement at Zim’s hesitation. 

“Oh, come on now Zim, I’m not trying to trick you, give it a shot. I’m gonna go outside, sit down somewhere and put in a coffee order for on the way home. While I do, you can either try it, or not. Now come on, you big coward.” 

Zim followed along as the human teased him. 

Sitting on the bench beside them, he watched them place the numerous bags at their sides, pulling out their phone, presumably making their order as they had said they would. 

“ZIM IS NO COWARD!” 

Tipping the tube of candy back, he quickly let some of the treat drip into his mouth, clenching his eyes shut. Within moments, sugary sweetness filled his senses, just as the human had promised. A satisfied moan left him as he eyed the plastic tubing. The sugar slowly melted over his tongue, the flavor lingering long after the treat had disappeared. 

“DELICIOUS!” 

Sol slipped their phone back into their pocket, laughing at the alien’s reaction. 

“I TOLD you. See? Two for two. Trust me, dude!” 

Zim grumbled, taking another portion of the sweet treat into his mouth as he eyed them from the corner of his vision, refusing to acknowledge them. 

Sol slipped their arms back into the loops of their grocery bags, rising from their spot. 

“Alright, you grumpy lil shit. C’mon, one stop left and then my place.” 

Zim grumbled at the way they addressed him, but chose not to argue it, merely so he wouldn’t prove the human right in their description. Following behind them, the pair began the walk back towards the human’s home. 

Once they had managed slightly over half their trek, Sol called out to the smaller of the two, slowing down in front of a small coffee shop. 

“Alright, I gotta make a pit stop and pick up my drink. You can wait out here, if you want. I ordered and paid ahead, so I’ll just be a sec.” 

The Irken waved a hand at the human, boredom filling his face as he sucked at the rest of his treat. “Yes, yes. Make it quick, Earth-thing.” 

Sol nodded, turning and nudging the door of the shop open with their hip. 

The sound of a bell resounded overhead, filling the cafe with a jingling chime, announcing their entry. A familiar, dark-haired young man glanced up at them from behind the counter at the sound, a smile instantly gracing his tired face. 

“Hey! How’d I know you’d be the one showing up for this monstrosity?” 

Sol lugged their grocery bags along with them towards the counter, chuckling at the retort from the barista. They watched him adjust his glasses, removing them for a moment to clean them on his apron. 

“Hey, now what’s that supposed to mean, Dib?” 

The man laughed and placed a large drink on the counter, brightly colored and loaded to the top in whipped cream and colored sprinkles. 

“It means this was supposed to be a limited time drink. One that didn’t even sell well, mind you! And yet one person convinced my manager to keep ordering the ingredients because they keep ordering the atrocity… WITH EXTRA SHOTS AND SYRUP… I’m pretty sure your order will haunt my nightmares long after I graduate and quit this place.” 

Sol laughed so harshly their sides began to hurt. 

“Tell me how you REALLY feel, why don’t you??” 

They picked up the drink and looked at it, frowning and letting out a whine, their hands now full. 

Dib chuckled and reached over, already shoving a straw into the concoction for them. Sol took a long sip of the drink, humming contentedly before thanking the man. 

“Mm. You got long left on your shift?” 

Dib shook his head. “Thankfully, I’m almost done. Not looking forward to catching up on neglected papers though.” 

Sol managed to give him a vague finger gun around the drink, making their way towards the door. “Hey! Don’t neglect it! I know you just do this to earn a spare buck, but you don’t want it to be your fall back cause you procrastinated. I’m rooting for ya’ dude!” 

Dib waved at the regular patron as they exited the establishment, rolling his eyes and trying to fight down the smile creeping at the corner of his mouth. Ever since he had taken up the part time job a year or so ago, he’d learned to recognize them. They were hard to miss, always a cheery personality, and happy to make small talk when they picked up their _extremely_ memorable order. Unlike so many of the other patrons that had just become blurs after so long working the tedious job.

Not to mention, he couldn’t help the feeling that they were familiar, for some reason. He found himself drawn to them, instantly comfortable around them. 

As the chime of the bell signalled another customer entering the shop, he put on his best customer service face. Only an hour more, and then he could be home and attend to the business that he _really_ wanted to attend to. 

Outside the establishment, Sol stepped beside Zim, sipping happily at their sugary drink. 

“All done. Let’s get back to my place.” 

Without a word, Zim merely nodded, humming and walking at their side. His own treat long gone, he watched the human sip at their drink, seeming to enjoy it with much gusto. 

Sol glanced down, noting how the alien watched them intently as they took each sip. 

Without a word, they held the drink down in front of his face, smiling and looking away, acting oblivious to the pointed action. 

Zim blinked at the drink mere centimeters from his face, looking to the human again for a moment. When he noticed them looking away, he quickly wound his tongue around the straw, clamping his mouth down and taking a large sip of the brightly colored drink. 

As quickly as he had done so, he pulled away, focusing on the flavor, and pausing to see if he had a reaction to the strange fluid. Having no immediate reaction, he savored the flavor, his eyes growing wide as he swallowed it down, licking his lips. 

Leaning forward, he took another quick sip, pulling away before the human could make mention of his action. 

Biting down their chuckle, Sol nibbled at their lip in amusement, pulling the drink back up and returning to sipping at it casually as they walked. The next time they ordered one, they would need to get two, it seemed. 

It wasn’t long after that, that the sight of the human’s home came into view; a thankful sight to them both. 

Stumbling into the front door, Sol dropped the armfuls of bags to the floor, a tired sigh escaping them as they slumped down, choosing to immediately sit cross-legged on the cool floor. 

A groan escaped them as they sipped at their now melting drink, the colors melting together in a tye-dye fusion along the sides of the cup. “Ugh, now I have to put the cold stuff away… fuck I’m so tired…” They eyed the mini fridge, mere feet away, in exasperation. Their exhaustion was overwhelming. They had underestimated how tired they would be upon arriving home, it seemed. 

Zim watched the human tiredly slump on the floor, his arms crossed as he observed them, listening to their soft complaints. 

Letting out a huff of his own, he rose up on his PAK legs, letting them slip out from the bottom of the hoodie he adorned. Grabbing up the bags with ease, he scuttered across the compact eating space, making quick work of placing any items that were cold to the touch into the tiny refrigerator, and stuffing the remaining items onto shelves, out of sight. Granted, they were still in their bags, but the human should count themself lucky he had taken pity on their weak form at all. 

Sol watched in silent amazement as the small alien had proceeded to put their groceries away for them, a soft “Huh…” escaping their lips. 

“Wow… um, thank you, Zim.” 

They smiled gently, appreciating the gesture. 

Zim turned at the statement; while he had in part been wanting thanks for the gesture, receiving a heartfelt thank you from the human felt… odd. He found he quite liked it. 

“It’s nothing…” He muttered, avoiding their stare. 

Sol clambered up, standing tiredly and holding onto the wall for support, with a bit of effort. Waving their hand to Zim, they indicated for him to follow him to their room. Still teetering on his mechanical PAK legs, the Irken followed along, bracing himself on the walls of the narrow hallway and the ceiling until he entered the small bedroom, dropping down onto his feet with nimble movements. 

Turning to him, Sol offered the drink. “Here. We both know you liked it. There’s more than half left. And I don’t mind.” 

Zim gently clasped the cup, quickly taking a sip of the sugary drink, enjoying the slight rush it gave him. He watched as the human moved to remove their wig, placing it on its former stand before moving to their bed and collapsing with a satisfied huff. 

“I just need a bit of time to rest and recoup. Then, if you’re still down for it, I’ll make up some food for myself and some stuff for you to try out. It’s still pretty early, afterall... If I haven’t completely burned you out on new foods today?” 

Zim greedily sipped at the drink, pondering the statement. He had indeed been snacking more today than he had in… well, he couldn’t quite remember when he’d last indulged so much. He’d certainly been snacking less over the years since being on Earth, his access to Irken treats and supplies, while not gone, growing thin. He actually hadn’t been able to get a shipment in nearly 3 Earth years now that he thought about it… He needed to look into that...

With his PAK providing his sustenance, it wasn’t something he’d worried over. Invaders were trained to live without such frivolous things when need be. 

He wasn’t sick of the idea, though. The thought of more possible indulgences excited him, if he were being honest. And the human hadn’t steered him wrong thus far…

Besides! He still had questions that needed answered! That was it. He couldn’t leave until they sated his curiosity. 

He nodded to himself, satisfied with his ability to reason out why he found himself not wanting to leave just yet. 

“Zim said he would stay. Would you call him a liar?!” 

Sol chuckled at the defensive question, quirking a brow. Rolling over, they wormed across the bed and reached over it, snagging a pair of controllers from the floor just under the bedding. Tossing one to the alien, they smirked. 

“Alright, well, until I’ve gotta get food started then, how about we just chill out for a bit. Unless you have something else in mind, which I am definitely open to, by the way. If not though...:” They grinned, a devious look in their eyes. “You into video games?” 

Zim’s antennae wiggled beneath his wig, his eyes narrowing at the challenge. The human had no idea he had been on this planet for well over a decade, or that Earth video games were child’s play for him. (Even if he still indulged in them on occasion.) 

A wide smirk spread across his face, a glimmer in his eyes as he pounced onto the bed, making himself comfortable next to the human, burrowing into the pillows with a few rustling movements. He held the controller in his gloved hands, with practiced ease. Looking to the human, he let out a taunting hiss, his smug grin widening.

“Prepare to face you DOOM, Earth-Stink!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweetbread and sex talks. 
> 
> A little bit of a longer chapter this time around, since it took longer to get posted~

“ANOTHER VICTORY FOR ZIM!” 

The Irken stood tall, exclaiming his victory over the human proudly, as Sol flopped backwards on the bed, laughing loudly, slamming their own controller down into a pillow in defeat. 

“Oh my God! Not again! Jeez, let a guy win a round! Man, we need to instill a rule against you using combo moves! You’re killin’ me smalls!” 

Zim puffed out his chest, too full of his sense of pride and elation at thoroughly defeating the human repeatedly to even notice the teasing. 

“You will never win against me, human! I keep telling you I am superior in every way.” 

Sol rolled their eyes, tossing a pillow at him before rising from the bed. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Catching the pillow directly to the face, Zim let out a tiny ‘oof’ before grabbing the fluffy obstruction, watching the rubenesque human totter away. He snickered slightly, preparing to throw the item at the back of their head as he jeered back. 

“You run away from Zim’s challenge, yet you refuse to admit his superiority?!” 

Sol turned back to him, just in time to get hit in the face with pillowy vengeance. 

They huffed, grabbing it and smirking, holding it up threateningly as they pointed a finger at the overly smug looking alien. He wasn’t even feigning innocence. The little shit. 

“If you don’t recall, I have to make food. For both myself AND you. And yours will take a few hours to set up! So unless you want me to rescind my offer, we just have to call a truce on our epic video game battle.” 

Zim’s antennae stood erect, twitching at the mention of their meal. Between former matches of their games, he had announced that the wig and contacts of his disguise were impeding his play, and removed them so he could play more comfortably. Not that Sol had noticed much difference in his play before or after. He had managed to kick their butt quite well at both points. Though he seemed visibly more comfortable without the items. 

The Irken hopped off the bedding, tossing down the controller. 

“Fine. Then we will return to Zim utterly defeating you later on!” 

Sol chuckled, leading the way to the kitchen, the alien in toe. Pulling out various ingredients, they began to lay them out on the countertop so they would be easy to reach. 

Rubbing their chin, they mulled over which item to start first. 

As their eyes strayed across the cans of condensed milk, they smiled. Grabbing the cans, they placed them on the counter in front of Zim’s curious eyes. 

“Peel the labels off of those for me, please.” 

As Sol spoke, they rummaged for a pot, scurrying around their kitchen with practiced movements. 

Zim’s eyes went wide, eyeing the cans before turning to stare at the human. 

“You dare order ZIM around?!” 

Sol turned to face him, the pot they had been searching for now on their hip. 

“You wanna eat, you help.” They retorted, leaving no room for argument. 

Zim gulped slightly. Some part of him wanted to argue, but he couldn’t deny that he respected them for it, somewhere deep in his Irken upbringing. Having to work for your share was fair enough… 

Fine. He would do as the human requested. But only because he chose to. 

Without a word, he picked up a can, peeling away the label as he clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

Sol smiled softly at Zim’s sudden compliance. 

They filled the pot with water and set it on the stove, silently hoping he could tolerate the treat they were enlisting his help in making. Especially because, if he did, it was simple enough to make. There was no way he could fuck it up on his own. Hopefully. 

Once the cans were peeled of their papers, Sol directed Zim to place them in the water, turning the pot on to boil and leaving it to simmer. 

The alien eyed the cans with suspicion. 

“Alright, I’m gonna work on the rest. Just keep an eye on those. If the water goes below the can, can you add more? You can use a pitcher so you don’t get any on yourself.” 

Zim turned his face up. “Of course. I’m no smeet.” 

He couldn’t help but notice their attention to detail, ensuring he wouldn’t have to risk touching any of the water himself. That they had remembered and kept a note of the detail to keep him from being harmed by it stuck out in his mind. 

Meanwhile, Sol began to mix the various sugars, yeast, and flour they had bought earlier into a soft dough. Once the dough finally began to take shape, they lifted it from the bowl, flipping it onto the counter. 

Tossing some more flour onto their hands, they began kneading the ball on the counter, finding the monotonous task soothing. Keeping a steady rhythm, they hummed under their breath, enjoying the feeling. 

Zim’s antennae twitched, just barely able to detect the human making a sound to themselves. He could barely make it out, his inner ear having to strain to hear them at all. His eyes slid to their hands, watching them work with them skillfully, stretching, pulling, and pressing the mushy ball with purpose. He wasn’t sure why, but it was entrancing to watch them work with their hands like this. They were practiced movements that the human obviously found joy in. 

His head quirked as they moved the now perfectly round ball back into its first bowl, draping a cloth over it. 

Before he could ask what they were doing, they set to work again, working in another bowl, mixing more ingredients. 

Sol grinned when they noticed the alien observing them from the corner of their eye. Grabbing the cocoa powder, they paused. 

“You can eat chocolate right? I think I saw you eat some chocolate donuts, but I don’t wanna fuck up here.” 

Zim jolted out of his trance-like state. 

“Hmm? OH! YES. Yes!” 

He stepped from one foot to the other, returning his attention to the simmering pot just in time to add some water to it, thankful for the distraction. 

The corner of Sol’s mouth upturned, adding the cocoa to the topping they were mixing. 

Setting it to the side, they went about preparing their own meal, burning some time so the dough could rise. 

By the time they were nearly done, they put it aside so it could be reheated at a moment’s notice. Returning to the dough, they shaped the now fluffy, risen ball into smaller portions, setting them onto a tray as they worked. Taking care to place a portion of topping on each one, they moved with quick finesse, smiling to themselves as the practiced movements returned to them, despite not having made the sweet treat in so long. 

Once the tray of treats were set to perfection, all that was left was to trace the familiar markings into the dough topping. 

Zim watched, entranced, as they took a small knife and carved shell shaped designs into the top of each bun, letting out a satisfied hum when they finished. 

Wiping the knife off on a towel, they picked up the tray, shooing Zim away from the oven. 

“Alright, I know you’ve gotta be getting impatient, but the long wait is almost over, my little green friend. These just need to bake, and they will be worth every agonizing minute. I hope.” 

They slid the tray in, bumping the oven shut with their leg as they gave Zim an awkward grin. 

The Irken merely let out a grunt of annoyance. Watching them work had indeed been entertaining, but this had taken awhile indeed. He hoped it would be worth his wasted time. Especially since they had recruited him to literally watch water infernally boil the entire time. He was about to destroy the damned thing out of spite. 

Speaking of, he watched the human glance at the clock, turning their attention to the stove, utter glee on their face. Turning a knob on the stove, they turned off the appliance, finally. 

“Is that it?! You had Zim keep putting in water to just to toil it away?! I should destroy you where you stand, you vile-” 

Sol shoved a hand over the alien’s mouth, quieting him. Their eyes held a look of joy. 

“Zim! Shut up! It’s done! It’s what’s IN the cans and gosh I hope you can eat it cause if so I am opening up a whole new world for you. I just gotta let it cool down a bit!” 

Zim grumbled, inwardly deciding whether to bite the human’s hand. Before he could decide though, the hand was gone, the human standing next to the pot and anxiously waiting for it to cool. 

Their impatience getting the best of them, every few minutes Sol would dab a finger against the water to test if it had gotten to room temperature yet. And, predictably, with each tap, they would quickly withdraw their finger in pain and stick it in their mouth, grumbling for it to hurry up. 

Zim couldn't help but snicker at the human’s idiotic ritual, enjoying watching them anxiously prod away. 

Finally, after the 6th attempt though, he let out a weary sigh, withdrawing a PAK leg. 

“I thought you were a smarter human than the rest of them, but your impatience makes me question that.” 

Sol’s eyes went wide as they watched the leg attachments dive for the pot. 

“Wait! It’s almost cool enough now! But they’re still ho-!”

Grabbing the cans from the water using his PAK legs with ease, Zim stared at the human dully. 

“You were saying, human?” 

Sol looked away, abashed. 

“N-nothing.” 

Zim held the cans out carefully. 

“Now what am I supposed to do with these... things?” 

Sol perked up at the question, remembering the purpose of this experiment. 

“Right! Well, they should cool faster this way, so…” 

They gently tapped the side of the can with a finger, seeing that it was finally cool enough to handle. Taking the can away from the mechanical leg, they looked at it, nodding and muttering a quiet thank you to Zim. 

Quickly opening the can, they snatched up a spoon, dipping it into the creamy, brown substance that now replaced the milk. Pulling the thoroughly coated utensil out, they took a quick lick, a sigh of contentment rising from them as the caramelized treat enveloped their senses. It was just right, and warm enough that they were sure they could sit and devour the entire can of the indulgence in one sitting. 

Dipping the spoon back into the gooey treat, they handed both to the alien, who stood watching them, suspicion obvious on his face. 

“Alright. See if you can handle this. It’s dulce de leche.” 

Zim gave the substance a quick sniff, an overpowering, warm sweetness filling his olfactory senses. Slipping just the tip of his tongue out, he gave the spoon a quick lick. 

Pausing for a moment, he stood in silence as the caramel treat lingered in his mouth. 

Sol watched, feeling like they were on the edge of their seat as they watched the Irken mull over his initial taste. They were about to ask what he thought of it when his eyes went wide. 

Diving the spoon back into the can of sugary goodness, Zim took the entire spoon into his mouth, a groan that bordered on orgasmic filling the room. His eyes closed as he took another bite. And another. 

Sol grinned ear to ear, laughing loudly as they watched the alien begin to devour the can where he stood. 

Zim paused, spoon in mouth, at the sound of the human’s tinkling laughter, glancing up at them. He realized how he must have looked… Slowly pulling the spoon from his mouth, he let the delectable treat slip down his throat, clearing it audibly. 

“I find this human goop acceptable. It seems you may prove useful in your awareness of making human foods palatable for my people. G-good job. For a sentient bag of meat and juice.” 

He glanced away, taking another spoonful into his mouth, running his spindly tongue over the utensil to lick away every drop of the confection. 

Sol smirked, crossing their arms. “Well, it was supposed to go with other stuff too, but even I can’t deny sitting and just enjoying it by itself occasionally. Save the other can for later, though. The other part of your food is still baking. Once it’s done, whaddya say we eat together?” 

Zim’s antennae flicked completely upright at the mention of the rest of the meal. Trying to hide his excitement, he feigned disinterest. He tilted his head downward slightly, keeping focused on his current treat.

“Yes, yes. Whatever you say, human.”

Sol let out a tiny breath through their nose, watching as Zim hyper focused on his dulce de leche. Their head tilted slightly as they watched the alien, his down-turned head making his antenna droop forward and look more like bunny ears than the insectoid feature that they truly were.

Before they realized what they were doing, they felt their hand raise up slowly, reaching forward and instinctively moving to touch the drooping antennae. Lowering their middle finger softly, they drew a long, gentle stroke along the strange appendage. To their surprise, it was oddly warm, and though firm to the touch, a slight pulse seemed to resonate through it the moment they made contact. 

Within milliseconds of the contact, Zim stood up straight, a shiver shooting down his spine, a familiar clenching feeling suddenly coiling in his belly. A knot formed in his throat as his eyes opened wide, flicking to stare at the human as noise unbefitting an Irken Invader wrenched from his throat. 

Sol’s hand yanked away as if scalded, realizing their action as the alien stared at them. 

Before Zim could even get the shout of protest out of his mouth, Sol took a step back, speaking over him. 

“Oh, my god! I’m SO sorry! I just- Oh my god, I didn’t mean to do that. Why did I do that? Did I hurt you? Oh merdes, please forgive me. I won’t do that again. I don’t know what the fuck came over me.” 

Zim’s mouth clamped shut as he watched the human stumble over their words, unable to match his eyes. It was the most unsure of themself he’d seen them, yet. In all the time they’d spent with him that day, in facing him for the first time, this had them floundering? He grew more perplexed by the second. 

His antennae instinctively slicked themselves against his head.

“It’s, er, fine. Just don’t do it again!” 

He tried not to focus on the lingering feeling in his abdomen. He tried even harder not to think about how similar it was to the feeling from the night before, while he had observed them. 

Sol nodded quickly, letting out a heaving breath. 

Before either of them could process the moment any further, the sound of the kitchen timer resounded, signalling the end of the buns’ cooking time. 

Sol jumped to attention, clapping their hands together. They smiled wide, their eyes absolutely sparkling. 

“Finally!”

Pulling the tray from the oven, they set it on the stovetop to cool, taking that time to heat their own meal. Their stomach grumbled loudly, their body finally seeming to remember its need for sustenance and voicing its protests toward not being given its necessary nourishment. 

Just as they pulled out their now piping hot food, they noticed their alien companion already eyeing the sweet buns with eager curiosity. Grinning wide, Sol piled the entire tray of buns onto a much too small plate, tossing a wink the Irken’s way before bringing both plates back to their room and plopping onto the bed. 

Zim followed close behind, the sweet smell of whatever confection the human had concocted luring him along. He couldn’t even deny his eagerness to try them, especially after the vast array of delicious treats they had exposed his palette to today. He clutched the can of his remaining gooey goodness, quickly scuttering onto the bed and sitting next to the human, his eyes never leaving the plate. 

Sol noted how quickly Zim tailed behind them, making no comments for once, and simply making himself comfortable next to them. Placing the plate before him, they set their own plate in their lap, barely staving off digging in. 

“Un plato de conchas. Sólo para ti.” 

Zim practically salivated, eyeing the plate of delicious looking treats. They looked like seashell shaped buns, with a sugary coating that had distinct crackles all over the outside. Half of the buns were topped in what was obviously chocolate, while the others were… purple? He wasn’t sure why. But he wasn’t complaining. He still wouldn’t tell them it was his favorite color, even if it made the treats look all the more enticing. 

He smirked up at them, snatching one up in his gloved claw. 

“Gracias.” 

Sol quirked an eyebrow, returning the smirk. 

“Ooohhhh. ¿Así que también hablas español?”

Zim merely nodded, holding the smug expression, looking far too pleased with himself. 

“As if in all my time on this filthy dirt ball I haven’t learned more than one of your crude Earth languages. What do you take me for?” 

Sol laughed, picking up their fork from the side of their plate and lifting it to take a bite. 

“Fair enough.” 

The human seemingly content with the answer, Zim drew the bun to his mouth, taking a large bite of the warm confection. His teeth crunched through the sweet coating before being met with a soft, fluffy sweetbread that absolutely melted against his tongue. His eyes closed as he reveled in the taste. 

Sol continued to take bites from their own dinner, filling their belly as they watched the alien let out a tiny, content moan as he chewed. The moment his mouth was clear, he shoveled the rest of the large piece of bread into his mouth whole, his cheeks puffing out slightly at the portion. 

The human let out a snickering laugh, almost choking on their own meal at the sight. If they knew it wouldn’t infuriate the alien, they’d almost dare to call it cute. 

They watched as Zim grabbed another concha from the stack, ripping it in half as he eyed his can, delving it into the caramely sauce before shoving it into his mouth. Another satisfied noise seemed to resonate from him, morphing into a… was that a chirp? 

Sol blinked, listening more carefully as, sure enough, the little alien before them began to purr again in an almost chirping manner with each bite. 

They smiled softly, continuing to finish their own meal in the companionable silence, only the satisfied noises coming from the Irken filling the room. 

As they both finished, Sol’s plate cleared, and the Irken left with only 2 of the sweet buns that the poor Irken couldn’t stomach finishing, they let out a content sigh. Sol gingerly placed their plate on their bedside table, making a mental note to wash it later, pausing only long enough to mark in their journal that they had indeed remembered to eat. 

They flopped onto their back, closing their eyes and letting the comfort of laying down with a full stomach wash over them, barely fighting off the urge to nap right then and there. Zim watched the human fall back, tempted himself to do the same with how utterly stuffed he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had filled his belly to the point it was ‘full’, and his Irken body was working desperately to process the influx of sugar and nutrients. It left him feeling sleepy and content. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t have had that last concha. 

Giving in to the feeling, he let himself flop onto the bedding as well, his gloved hands massaging his bloated squeedlyspooch as he lazily watched the human out of one eye. 

He watched, his eyes glazed, as the human turned their face towards him, nuzzling into their pillow sleepily. 

“Hey… Zim?” 

He let out an annoyed noise of confirmation at his name being called.

“Hehh?” 

Their arms wriggled up, getting comfortable under the pillow below their face, propping it up so they could face him better. 

“What’s been on your mind today? I know I don’t know you. But I like to think I have a knack for picking up on weird vibes… and it’s felt like there’s been something on your mind all day.” 

Zim’s tired eyes widened, suddenly alert. His mind raced. How had they picked up on his inner turmoil? 

They sighed softly, closing their eyes tiredly as they continued. 

“You know, I meant what I said earlier. You can ask me anything. That means you can talk to me about anything too. I know I’m just some human, but… I’m here to listen. If you want it.” 

Zim chewed at his lip for a moment, his stare turning downward, toward his hands on his stomach. Firming his resolve, he turned his head to stare at the human, his eyes locking onto theirs.

“The things you were doing yesterday. Explain them to Zim.” 

For a moment, Sol blinked in confusion. Their mind turned over their previous day, parsing out what he meant, until it settled on the only thing he _could_ have meant. 

“You mean last night. My cam show, right?” 

Zim nodded in affirmation. 

“Why did it look like you were talking to others? What was the point of… that? Zim does not understand. Explain.” 

Sol took a breath. It looked like they would have to explain the whole shebang. 

Sitting up, they made themself comfortable, resting a pillow over their crossed legs. 

“Okay so, basically that was my job.” 

Zim sat up as well, his confusion growing further at the answer. 

“So that is your… work?” 

Sol nodded. 

“Yeah. Exactly. I’m a sex worker. Which, basically, is exactly what it sounds like. I sell sex. People pay me for my body.” 

There was something that Zim could parse together. Pleasure districts existed in plenty of galaxies, and it was common to come across species that indulged in pleasure hosts, aliens of all sorts who mated for currency. 

His antennae twitched as he mulled over that realization, his confusion growing again. 

“You had no one with you though.” 

Sol chuckled, moving their hands while they explained. 

“That’s who I was talking to... So, here on Earth at least, it’s not uncommon for people to… ‘get off’ on watching other people. On seeing other people erotically. So I provide that service, and people pay me for it. Not that I don’t do in person sex work as well, but what you saw was just me streaming my cam show.”

Zim rubbed a clawed hand over his chin, nodding as he absorbed the details. He was finally beginning to understand. Though it still did nothing to explain why he felt how he did while watching them.. Do whatever they did. 

He blinked up at them again, his brows pursing together. Against his wishes, a slight flush rose on his cheeks.

“W-what was that thing that… you were doing…” 

Sol’s eyes widened. Was that what he had meant by not seeing anyone else? Did he not understand masturbation? Their mind wandered, wondering if he had never done so himself. Did his species even masturbate? Did they even have sex organs? Oh jeez, was that why he was so confused? 

They blinked a few times, their eyes meeting the Irken’s gaze, sincere and curious, with a faint flush. 

“Well, I was masturbating, Zim. That’s what people pay me to do. People pay me to… well, sort of have sex, but by myself. It when you touch your own body, especially genitals or sexual organs, for sexual pleasure. And plenty of people get sexually aroused by watching other people touch _their_ bodies. It’s, well, as simple as that.” 

Sol smiled gently, unsure whether to reach out and give the alien a reassuring touch. 

The words the human said ruminated in Zim’s mind. After a moment he nodded, watching their careful gaze. 

“Zim thinks he understands now. Thank you, human. This was... valuable information.” 

Sol couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the strangely calm response. 

“Yeah. Sure. Anytime, Zim...”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more delicious trans-inclusive smut.  
> And yes, I am all about bottom/switch Dib~

Sol curled up into their multitude of fluffy pillows and blankets, sighing comfortably as they wriggled deeper into their hoodie. 

Zim had left not long after their, albeit semi-awkward, conversation, seeming more quiet and rushed than he had been earlier that day. Sol slightly wondered if the topic had bothered the Irken, but decided not to dwell on the matter. They were completely different SPECIES. For all they knew, he simply needed to mull over the information. The best thing they could do is respect the need for distance. They knew they’d appreciate the same if it were them. 

Slipping chilly fingers onto the plastic of their laptop, they pulled the computer into their lap, prying it open and deciding to tend to their daily updates and such. 

Checking their inbox, blinking at the very top of the recently received, they noticed a message from a familiar username: CryptidHunter. 

“Ah, that’s right. I still need to find out when they’d like their 1:1. I should also post an update and reminder about the giveaway…” 

Making quick work of the later, they opened the new message, noting that it had been sent sometime during their dinner with Zim. 

**CryptidHunter: Hey. U said 2 message about the 1:1 slot. Is there anything I need to do or? I’ve never done anything like this b4. Srry!**

Sol visibly ‘awwed’ at the awkward message. So, despite being a regular in their chat, and buying pre-posted listings, they were pretty cherry to this, huh? They smiled and easily slid into their professional banter, purposely keeping it a little more casual than they otherwise would, to keep the poor guy/gal/person at ease, as they typed a reply into the chat log.

**SaturnAmbrosia: That’s correct! So, the tldr is that you can have (up to) a 40min session, no other viewers. No recordings or SS allowed. You can feel free to make any requests ahead of time, and during, within reason! Let me know a day and time range that works for you. After 5pm and not on a Stream day, and I’ll be able to work with you!**

Minimizing the screen, they opened another tab, pulling up a playlist and beginning to edit it, humming along to the music as it filled the room. 

Within minutes, a ping resounded from their computer, alerting them to a new message in their inbox. To their surprise, it was none other than CryptidHunter, having already replied. A small green dot appeared over their icon to signal that they were online. 

Sol smiled, opening the message box. 

**CryptidHunter: ok! I know ur pretty open about being genderqueer/a demi-guy in chat, even tho most of ur sets are p femme. Tbh I’ve always been a fan of ur masc/andro stuff 2. Would u b cool with something like that?**

**SaturnAmbrosia: Yeah, that would be no problem! That’s when I’m most comfortable, so I’m more than happy to indulge you in that. Any other requests?**

**CryptidHunter: …**

**CryptidHunter: Do u have any strokers?**

Sol’s gaze slipped to their toy box, peeking out from under their bed. Inside they indeed have one, a special request they had ordered from a specialty shop for queer folks. They hadn’t used it in any shows yet, but had quite enjoyed it when they indulged in it in private. 

**SaturnAmbrosia: I do! I can accommodate that, np. Do you have a particular day you’re free or would like to do this?**

Unlike the previous messages, there was a pause after the message became marked ‘read’. Sol sat and waited, a few minutes passing before the dots signalling the other person was typing became visible in the chat bar. 

Their eyebrows raised at the response. 

**CryptidHunter: Is today ok? Or is there a number of days out that I should wait?**

**CryptidHunter: srry if that sounds weird or eager. I’m just kind of excited ngl.**

A slight chuckle escaped them as they typed a quick response. 

**SaturnAmbrosia: Today is fine.**

Before they could send their second part of their response, another message popped up, catching their attention. 

**CryptidHunter: Is it ok if not all of the 40 min is… u know. 18+? Like. Would it be weird if I just wanna watch some videos together first?**

The smile on Sol’s face softened, widening slightly. Who was this precious bean? If it weren’t for their regular donations during shows and blatant in show requests, they would wonder just how innocent they were. It made them want to bend their rules, just a little for them. 

They were a long time regular, and had never caused trouble. In fact, they had helped shut down multiple troublesome instances in chat, to the point they had considered asking them to Moderate for them. 

Worst-case scenario, they took this inch and tried to take a mile, and Sol would have to ban them. They would be sad to do it, but hopefully their gut feeling about them was right. 

It hadn’t steered them wrong yet, so… here was to hoping. 

Their fingers flew across their keyboard, pressing enter on the message before they could take back their decision. 

**SaturnAmbrosia: That’s np. In fact, I’ll tell you what. You’ve been a regular supporter and have been good for the channel. These messages and this offer stay between us, and if they do not, I WILL NOT hesitate to permaban! BUT! How about I open a voicechat during our 1:1. That way we can talk and enjoy a show together. Sound good? It’ll still count towards your session, but usually I have a hard rule on incoming voice and vid. I’m willing to make a partial exception, just for this giveaway.**

**CryptidHunter: akl;sjdfa;lkd**

**CryptidHunter: srry!!**

**CryptidHunter: i got excited. Just. That would be… *amazing*. TY. Even just that would make me super happy.**

**CryptidHunter: If u are ok w 6pm the new Mysterious Mysteries is on. I could stream it, if ur ok with that?**

**SaturnAmbrosia: Sounds rad. I wanted to watch it, anyway. Now I don’t have to watch it alone. See you at 6!**

Sol grinned. They had indeed been planning on watching the long running show later that evening, so getting to watch it with someone was a pretty enticing change of pace. Frankly, it would barely be work. They’d probably tack on some extra time to the person’s slot to make up for it, since that would take up easily half the session. 

That would mostly depend on the person’s behavior in call though, if they were being honest. 

Closing their laptop, they crawled out of the warmth of their bed, deciding to pick through their clothes and decide on an outfit for the night. It was nice to not have to fall back on their feminine items, aka the vast majority of their items, though it meant they’d have to actually sort through their daily-wear and plan. Or maybe they’d just do something semi-casual and do a boyfriend, date-night vibe, since they were watching stuff together, anyway. 

Yeah. That might work. 

Grinning to themself, they riffled through their clothing rack. They would have fun putting themself together tonight.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Dib gnawed at his lip as he sat on his bed. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Things were happening so fast.

He hadn’t thought he’d actually get to have his session with Saturn the same night, but here he was… and not only that, but they were willing to watch his favorite show with him! 

He glanced down at his clothes, making a quick decision to at least change clothes. He had showered upon coming home from his shift at the cafe, but didn’t want to be stifled in his jacket and jeans during his solo session tonight. 

Yanking off the offending clothing, he tossed them onto a pile of dirty laundry, tugging on a pair of pajama pants, covered in tiny cat heads, spitting UFO’s. Were they ugly as sin? Yes. Were they comfortable as hell? Also yes. 

Giving his t-shirt a sniff check, he deemed it acceptable, flopping back onto his bed as he watched the clock tick away, counting down until the airing of his favorite show. 

As the time crept closer, he logged onto his computer again, slipping his headphones over his ears.

Checking the chat log from earlier, he noticed a new button was now visible, reading ‘Join Private Chatroom’. 

Taking a deep breath, he clicked the button. Within seconds, a window opened, with a chat window to the right to it, exactly how their usual chatroom looked, but with a distinct lack of text in it. He let out his held breath as he processed the live feed before him. 

Sitting there, curled up and playing with their phone, was Saturn. Short silver hair adorned their head, wispy curls straying in mismatched directions, giving them an intentionally messy appearance. They wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, the shirt adorned with a picture of an upside down heart, filled with a grey ass. The words ‘I kissed Mothman’s ass’ in red across the chest. 

Dib couldn’t help but grin at the shirt, choking down a chuckle. He cleared his throat, pushing his headphone mic closer to his mouth, ever so slightly to test if it was working. 

“H-hello? Is this working?” 

Sol looked up at the sound of someone speaking up in the call. They noticed that it showed CryptidHunter as viewing their videochat and in their private voice call. 

“Hey! There you are! I was starting to wonder if you’d make it in time. The show’s about to start. You wanna just watch on the site or private stream it?” 

Dib cleared his throat again, his confidence growing. 

“Oh! Yeah! I’ve got a stream link, hang on, I’ll send it to you.” 

He clinked on the url and sent it to them, watching as the brightness of their screen changed against their skin, reflecting them following the link with a satisfied grin. 

“Niiiiice. Thanks! Be tee dubs. Pronouns. What are they? I don’t wanna misgender you and squick you out during a private session, at any point. Any absolute no-no things to call you?” 

Dib leaned back in his chair, pulling his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged. His sense of comfort quickly set in. They were already easy to listen to in their regular chats, but this was an entirely other level. 

“He/Him. I’m a dude, so just anything guy-ish, I guess? I don’t have any triggers that I can think of. It’s cool that you asked though.” 

Sol nodded along, making a mental note of his response. 

“No problem, my dude. Again. You know I’m queer. It may not be something many people are gonna ask you beforehand, but I try to make a point. Put out what you wanna receive and all, ya know?” 

Dib nodded, momentarily forgetting they couldn’t see him. 

“Y-yeah.” 

The sound of the Mysterious Mysteries theme song began to play in the background, filling his ears. He watched as the person on the other side of the screen burrowed down into their bed, pulling what he assumed was their laptop forward, and closer to their face. 

“Okay! Okay! It’s starting! I wanna see if they have any new footage of Bessie! They’re supposed to talk about it this episode!” 

Dib’s eyes sparkled at the comment, quickly responding and delving into his research on the creature’s history, their conversation devolving into various theories about the alleged creature. 

Both of the pair let out loud ‘boo’s’, shouting at the TV host when they aired the ‘new footage’ that had been teased beforehand, only to show an obviously edited clip of a log. 

As the show finally wrapped up, the ending theme playing in the background, Sol flopped back onto their bed, lounging comfortably, their shirt riding up to expose their plump stomach as they stretched. 

“Man, sometimes I wanna call up that host personally and give him a piece of my mind. Some episodes are great! But others are just so sub-par. They wouldn’t know a real cryptid if it came up and bit them in the butt. Bet if a chihuahua did though, they’d run screaming that it was some alien shapeshifter.” 

Dib laughed loudly at the comment. 

“Yeah, seriously. I’ve actually met him once or twice. Even been on the show with ACTUAL PROOF of stuff! But calls ME the crazy one? Like, thanks man! Not. I’ve got hundreds of hours of various things compiled, but all they wanna keep showing is the junky stuff that keeps the masses enthralled, I guess.” 

Sol perked up, their eyes going wide. 

“Whoah, seriously? So you’re, like, a legit cryptid hunter? Not just some fanboy?” 

Dib scratched his cheek awkwardly, pulling his knee to his chest. 

“I mean, yeah kinda. It’s been a special interest of mine pretty much my entire life. I’m doing parapsychology as a major so I can keep looking into things officially. So… yeah? I guess that makes me sound kinda nuts, huh?” 

Silver hair shook as Sol shook their head fervently. 

“Nah, man! That’s rad as hell! I actually know a guy irl who’s doing something similar, if I remember right. You two have a lot in common. I think you’d get along.” 

They smiled as the man from the coffee shop came to mind. 

Dib grinned, thankful that his idol didn’t find him entirely weird or off putting. 

“Wow. Thanks.” 

He blushed slightly as he watched them adjust, his gaze catching on each shift of their shirt as they moved. 

“I, uh, like the outfit you picked out. I’m into the casual look.” 

Sol grinned, sitting off to show the shirt better. 

“Really? Good. I figured it went well with the theme of our little… ‘date’ tonight.” 

Their words rolled off their tongue, their tone low and sultry. 

Dib swallowed hard at the words. 

“Date?” 

Sol nodded, fingering the bottom of the fabric. 

“I hope you don’t like it too much though… there’s a surprise inside. If you want it that is?” 

Dib’s feet slid to the floor, his knees parting to make way for his hardening dick as he processed their statement. His response came out strained. 

“A-a surprise?” 

Sol nodded and pulled the shirt over their head, the silvery curls falling back around their face and ears when they lowered their arms, tossing away the shirt. Below, their bare chest was in a black-belted harness. 

“You like, or should I stick with the t-shirt?” 

Dib swallowed audibly, his voice coming out in a tiny breath. 

“I like this!” 

Sol laughed lowly, slipping a small hand up their stomach and chest, tracing each belt carefully across their skin before gripping one. 

“Do you have any requests?” 

Dib took a deep breath, thinking for a moment. He chewed at his lip. 

“Could you… dirty talk? Like sweet but dirty? And maybe suck off a toy first?” 

Sol nodded, the request a mild one. Reaching over the edge of their bed, they pulled out a realistic dildo and showed it to the screen briefly before kissing the tip of the head. Running their tongue over it, they began alternating between kissing and licking over the head and the sides of the shaft. 

“Like this? Is this what you want me to do, baby boy?” 

Dib sucked in a harsh breath, biting hard at his lip. He carefully pulled the top of his pajama pants down, fully exposing his already weeping cock as it bounced into view. He slipped his hand around it, swiping his thumb over the bead of pre-cum dribbling from his slit. 

“Y-yeah!... I-is… Is it okay if I touch myself?” 

Sol smirked, nodding, finding his need for permission endearing. 

“That’s the point of this, sweet thing. You can get off whenever you want or need to. That’s perfectly okay.” 

Dib shuddered, stroking himself the moment they granted him permission. A small keen escaped his lips, trying to muffle the noise. He watched as silver hair bobbed as they took the toy into their mouth, beginning to suck it dutifully, occasionally deep-throating it. 

Sol’s eyes closed, the muffled sounds of the young man in the call whining admittedly arousing them, making a familiar dampness form between their legs.

Slipping a hand down, they dipped their fingers into their folds, pumping in and out in time with their bobbing motions, letting out a sultry moan occasionally to encourage the man’s own sounds. Some part of their monkey brain knew this was no longer a show but, essentially, phone sex, but they didn’t care. They wanted to get off and wanted to get this poor guy off in the process. 

They wondered what kind of noises he would make when he came, while watching them. 

Pulling away from the toy with an audible pop, they stared into the camera, smiling. 

“That’s a good boy… watching me feels so good, doesn’t it, you naughty thing…” 

Dib’s cock twitched, a small burst a cum dribbling from the tip at the comment. He gave himself a harsh tug, a desperate moan wrenched from his throat. 

“Oh god, yes… Please, Saturn…” 

Sol sat up, tracing their hands down their body slowly, pausing to tug at the harness roughly. 

“Please what? Use those words.” 

Dib groaned, dipping his other hand down to cup his balls, massaging them snuggly. 

“I-I wanna see you fuck your toy… t-the stroker… I-I wish it was me you… y-you were fucking…” 

His face bloomed red, heat rising up his chest at the admission.

Sol grinned wide, hunger in their eyes upon knowing this man didn't want to prey upon them… that he wanted them to prey upon **him**. 

It enticed them in a way they couldn’t explain. 

“Oh, baby boy… if I’d have known, I’d have pulled out the strap too and have given you a proper show…” 

Dib shuddered at the mental image. Thoughts of riding them filling his mind, making his balls ache and his shaft painfully harden. To fuck them would be amazing. To be fucked by them would be _divine_. He mewled loudly, his face growing red at the pitiful noise.

“Oh… g-god…” 

Sol smirked and pulled out the small stroker, holding it in their palm as they rose to their knees. Tugging their jeans down, they adjusted, so the screen got a full view of their cunt and engorged clit. 

Pouring a bit of lube onto their fingers, they thoroughly coated the entrance of the toy, fucking it with their fingers on camera before parting their labia and slicking their mini-dick, stroking it between their fingers in long, languid motions. Fully exposing themselves, using their fingers to part themselves for him, they let out a guttural noise. 

“Boy. Is this what you want?”

Dib leaned forward, watching in fascination. He stroked himself, slowing his motions to prolong his pleasure, not wanting to orgasm until he’d gotten to see them ride the toy. 

“Y-yes, Saturn! P-please! Please fuck it! I need it…” 

Sol slipped their fingers into the toy again before lining up the toy’s slitted opening to their throbbing clit. Pressing into it, they let out a satisfied groan, slowly beginning to fuck into it. Building a steady pace, they let their voice carry, panting and moaning like a bitch in heat as they curled over the camera, ensuring their watcher had a full view of them fucking the toy with a mission. 

Dib cried out, holding himself, tightening and increasing his strokes, desperately trying to keep time with the euphoric sight before him. Each shimmering wet glint of their T-dick pounding into the toy sent chills shooting down his spine, pleasure pooling at the base of his back. 

Sweat gathered on his brow, beginning to drip down the sides of his face as his panting grew more erratic. 

“I-I’m so c-close!” 

Sol smirked, the arm bracing themself on their bed beginning to shake. They huffed in satisfaction as a tight heat pooled in their core. 

“I’m not far either… Ngh!”

Dib braced his head against his chair, bucking his hips upwards erotically into his fingers. 

“I-I wanna see all of y-you! P-please!”

Sol grinned lazily, forcing their body fully upwards before canting back, letting themselves fall back into full view. They arched their back and hips off of the bed, staring red-faced into the camera as they ensured the camera had a full view of everything they were offering. 

Slipping their hand down, they parted their pussy lips, their juices dripping visibly as their opposite hand gripped the toy in their palm, fucking it with new fervor. They bit their lip, staring dead into the camera as the tightening pleasure threatened to peak inside of them. 

“Cum for me.” 

The words came out sultry and harsh, an order meant just for the young man watching them.

Dib swore he blacked out for a moment, his hands and hips stuttering erratically before stilling, gripping just above the base of his cock; the hardest orgasm he’d felt in his life pulled from his body with a force unparalleled. Cum splattered in thick ropes over his shirt and thighs, a high-pitched whine drawing from him in tired spurts as dribbles of the orgasmic bliss continued to drip from his swollen head, coating his hands. 

Upon hearing the pleasured cry, Sol keened, the building feeling inside them snapping as they gave a last rock into their toy, sending them careening over the edge and into their own orgasmic bliss. Their toes curled, eyes rolling back into their head as their breath escaped them, pleasure rocking through them in waves. Canting gently against the toy, they rode out their orgasm, discreetly trying to remember to breathe. The sounds of labored breathing over the call drew them out of their hypnotic trance as they collapsed onto the bed, their body finally blissfully unclenching.

Dib collapsed fully into his computer chair, his brain trying to remember how to function. He glanced up at the screen just in time to watch the cam personality pull their toy away, gently. Entranced, he couldn’t help but nearly swallow his tongue, his abused cock twitching at the sight of the sticky fluid that stretched between their toy and clit before breaking away. 

He huffed softly, his voice cracking slightly. 

“T-that was… holy shit…”

Sol grinned, tossing the toy aside before giving him a peace sign, chuckling to themselves. 

“Happy to be doing pleasure with you!” 

Glancing at the corner of their computer screen, they vaguely realized they had significantly gone over the time slot they had allotted. Not that they particularly minded, as they usually wound have, but it was best not to drag things out now that the primary part of their work was done. It was best to remind themselves this was work and not a date, after all. 

Readjusting, they sat up, somewhat shakily, doing their best to put their professional smile on.

“As much fun as this was though, time is definitely up. So this is my time to go. I’d love to catch up and hear more about your cryptid hunts sometime in chats though! Ttyl, dude! If you ever see Mothman, slap his ass for me!” 

Waving to the screen, they clicked the button to end the stream, collapsing onto the bed with a deep sigh. They lazily glanced over to the well-used toy, grumbling as they rolled over to wash it before they laid down for the evening. Something about cleanliness and godliness, after all.

Meanwhile, Dib still sat in a dirty, collapsed heap in his chair, covered in cooling spunk and watching the blank computer screen in a daze. An absolutely love-struck look plastered on his face.

“Holy fuck… I don’t think I’ve come that hard in my entire life… I _have_ to talk to them again.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad plenty of you enjoyed some tasty smut last chapter! 
> 
> I'm super into the idea of Gaz and Dib growing closer as they mature, even if it's only when they meet each other half way.   
> Esp bc our favorite little Gay siblings gotta stick together. 
> 
> Time to also start leading up to some feelings, including the not so great ones.   
> After all, no one can convince me Zim doesn't have a jealous/possessive streak, especially where Dib is concerned.   
> Don't worry. Character growth will be a fun ride.

“So, I finally talked to them and we hung out! Granted, it was kind of a special circumstances thing.” 

Dib’s fingers instinctively clicked away on the keyboard, his mouse swiping back and forth in frenzied motions to keep up with the frantic activity on his screen as he spoke. 

A groan echoed in his headset in response. 

“Gross, Dib. I don’t wanna know about your sex life, even the pitiful lack there-of.”

The young man frowned, turning his character to face his gaming partner’s. 

“Oh come on Gaz, you know I’m not getting into that part, so...please. Just hear me out here! We both know this is the only time you’ll talk to me like a person.” 

The girl grumbled a retort, before sighing in annoyance. 

“Fine…” 

In the time since the siblings had grown up, they’d begun spending time gaming with each other. During said gaming sessions, it had also become easier to talk to each other. They’d begun to bond, to a degree. Well enough, at least, to move in together when their father offered to buy them a small place to share while they each finished their respective college courses.

Since moving in together, the pair had semi-regular gaming nights now. 

When these gaming nights didn’t coincide with Gaz streaming their sessions, this was when they did the most of their catching up. 

Gaz sighed again, targeting a mini-boss and launching towards it. 

“Look to your left, we got respawns!... Alright, Dib. We have BBEG coming up, so I need you to focus. So cry about your big gross crush now before we get to the portal.” 

Dib veered left, diving headfirst into the spray of enemies, following orders as his sister grumbled them; their practiced dynamic long-since engrained. 

“Okay, so I know you know about Saturn, right? The… streamer I like to watch?” 

Gaz hummed an affirmative response. 

If only her dorky brother knew how well she knew Saturn... 

“Yeah okay. What about ‘em? I know you’ve got the hots for ‘em.” 

Dib flushed, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah, well, I’m thinking it’s more than just… sexual attraction… is that crazy?”

Gaz mulled over the question for a moment before deadpanning. 

“Completely.” 

Dib was so shocked at the response he distractedly nuked his own character. As he waited, slack-jawed, for his character to respawn, he stammered out a response. 

“H-h-hey! C’mon, Gaz!” 

The young woman sighed loudly. 

“Dib! Listen to me here, bro. So you got to talk to them. Outstanding. But to them you are just some dude who follows their channel and subscribes. One talk doesn’t mean you’re in love with them, dude. You think I’d date some random guy who follows my gaming stream? Fuck no.” 

Dib ran a hand down his face, grumbling. 

“Yeah, well, you being gay kinda throws a monkey wrench in that anyway, Gaz.” 

Dib chuckled as he heard something hit his door. Probably a boot. 

“That’s not my point, dweeb! For fuck’s sake, I’ve spent more time with them than you! You aren’t even on a friend basis.” 

Dib froze, his breath caught in his chest for a moment. 

“WAIT. You know them?? Like, KNOW them??”

Silence filled the chat for a moment until Dib heard a long drawn out sip of the woman’s drink. 

“GAZ.” 

The woman let out an annoyed groan. 

“We’re both streamers, Dib. What do you think? The internet might be a big place, but it gets pretty small when streamer communities overlap. Did you think having a ‘Saturn’ on my raid team was just a coincidence? God, you’re so dumb.” 

Dib let out a breath of amazement. 

“Holy shit-” 

Her tone turned threatening as she cut off her brother mid-exclamation. 

“Don’t go randomly adding them now that you know who they are. That’s major creep behavior. And don’t get all weird next time we’re all raiding together. Just be cool… I know that’s hard for you...” 

Dib nodded quickly, despite being out of sight. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Dib focused on the game at hand again, his character crouching down and creeping towards the entry portal into the final area. He sighed softly through his nose, chewing at his lip anxiously as his thoughts muddied, trying to make sense of his feelings. 

The sound of his sister shouting for him drew him from his jumbled thoughts. 

“Hey! Dib! Are ya’ listening?!” 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I just zoned out, I guess. I’m good to go. Let’s do this…” 

Gaz sighed, pausing before starting the final encounter. 

“You know, Dib… for all you know, this is just another obsession. But… if it’s not? You won’t know unless you get to know them. Not the personality they put on for their shows, but THEM. And, you just aren’t there yet. Maybe one day you will be. Once you get there, if you still feel all… ugh, _lovey and shit_. Then consider things. But until then, just, chill dude. Don’t be a creep. Live your life.” 

Dib leaned back in his chair, listening carefully as his sister spoke. 

It wasn’t often that she went on one of her tangents of wisdom, but when she did, she was strangely… comforting to listen to. And, like it or not, he valued her opinion. 

“Yeah… yeah, okay, Gaz…. Thanks.” 

He smiled softly, leaning forward and returning his attention to their game. 

Her tone returned to its usual, gruff nature, happy to be giving direction in their game, instead of giving her older brother dating advice. 

“Awesome. Now, cry-fest is over. Time to kick some Big Boss Butt!”

»————- ☀ ————-«

”Are you not ready, YET? Hurry up, you filthy meat sack!”

Zim shouted from the kitchen, snooping through the human’s kitchen cabinets for their stash of candy. Finding the small box, tucked away, hidden at the back of the top shelf, he snickered, easily having scaled his way up with his PAK legs. 

He raided the small box, digging through until he found a packet of Pop Rocks, an elated trill escaping the back of his throat. 

Shoving the box back where he had found it, he plopped onto the floor, sauntering down the hallway as he pried the bag open, sniggering happily as he tasted the popping sweet. 

Sol’s voice huffed, yelling back at him as they heard him nearing the room. 

“I told you to stop calling me that, or I’ll start leaving without you!” 

Zim entered the room, snickering under his breath as he eyed the human. Thankfully, they were almost ready; on the last step of grabbing their wig before they could leave the house for the day. 

“As if you would wake up early enough to evade ZIM!” 

Sol turned to the Irken, their hands on their hips as they smirked back. 

“Hey! I could too wake up early enough. It’s not my fault you can cheat, what with your cameras and- Hey!! Stop raiding the candy bin! I keep having to re-hide it because you keep eating it all, you little thief!” 

The second they spotted Zim munching the packet of Pop Rocks happily, they lunged forward, attempting to snatch the candy away. 

With little difficulty, Zim dove out of reach, turning on his heel to stick out his spindly tongue at the frustrated human. Sol scrunched their nose up at him, trying their damndest to convey their lack of amusement. 

Pivoting around, the little alien spotted a particular wig, one that the human had worn once or twice in the time they’d since met. For some reason, he found it often catching his attention. Soft lavender locks, carefully styled into wispy, shoulder length curls pulled together with a tiny knotted heart-shaped half-bun. 

Walking over, he carefully picked the wig up with a practiced hand, thanks to his many years dealing with his own. Turning to the human, he handed it to them, carefully laying it in their hands. 

“Wear this one today.”

Sol smirked, stepping over to their mirror and already adjusting the hair, despite their inner need to argue. 

“And just why should I wear _this_ one today?” 

Without turning his head, Zim answered matter-of-factly, right before pouring some more of the candy into his mouth. 

“Because Zim likes it, of course.” 

Sol momentarily glanced to the alien, raising a brow, both in amusement and confusion. Instead of questioning further though, they merely assumed it was just the Irken’s inflated ego, as it tended to be. Grabbing a few star shaped hair pins, they added them to various spots in the purple tresses, giving themself a content nod before snatching up their bag. 

Over the past few weeks, they had fallen into a strangely comfortable routine with their alien ‘captor’. Or maybe just ‘watcher’ was more accurate. 

After the night that Zim had asked about their camming, the strange alien disappeared for a few days, leaving no trace that he had even existed, except for the cameras watching over Sol’s home. Just when they had begun to think he wouldn’t show up again, sure enough, there he was, waiting for them to get up at the crack of dawn, as he had that first morning. 

Ever since, he had quickly memorized their set grocery shopping days, and seemed to make an appearance each morning beforehand. It had become a habit for him to accompany them, helping to lug the items to Sol’s home and put them away, all while complaining and reminding them how grateful they should be. Then the alien would linger about, occasionally joining the human for more ‘rematches’ in their never ending game tournaments, before trying whatever new sweet treat they had brought home or created that day. 

It brought a smile to Sol’s face.

“Alright, Zim, let’s boogey!” 

The Irken followed, grumbling under his breath. 

“I still do not understand why you insist on saying that when we are not, in any way, doing any of this ‘boogeying’.” 

Sol rolled their eyes at him, chuckling. 

“I keep telling you. It’s just a saying. And I refuse to stop using it just because you are literal as hell. I know you have them too, because I never understand your crazy alien sayings when you use them.” 

Zim rubbed his chin as the pair walked side by side. 

“Mmm… fine. But I still think it’s stupid baloney nonsense.” 

Sol raised their hands in the air, laughing loudly at the comment before pointing down at Zim. 

“You just used ‘baloney’ to express something being silly! So you obviously grasp the idea! Just… accept that I’m just saying ‘Let’s go’ in a silly way, you infuriating little-” 

The alien and human laughed together loudly at their foolhardy argument, only to be cut off by a shout as they turned the corner. 

“ZIMMM!” 

Sol and Zim both turned, their heads whipping up to see who had called out to him. As confusion bled into Sol’s vision, Zim hissed, his prehensile tongue practically spitting as his eyes narrowed to slits. 

“Dib?” Sol asked in confusion, squinting at the young man, who now wore a t-shirt and trench coat, versus the usual work uniform they saw him sporting. They must have run into the young man on his way into or away from a shift.

“DIB.” Zim hissed out the man’s name, subconsciously stepping forward, both in challenge of his rival, and to put himself between the man and the person behind him. 

Dib glared at the alien before waving an arm, looking up at the familiar figure behind him. He fumbled to remember their name. The downside of just remembering their face. How could he have gotten so close to them and barely remember their name?! Damn!

“Shit… um… Sol? Sol! That’s right. SOL! You gotta get away from him! That guy isn’t what he seems! I know you might not believe me, but he’s dangerous!” 

Sol glanced down at Zim as the alien hunched down, making himself look as menacing as possible toward the human. 

Zim bared his teeth, every one of his nerves on edge as he fought down the instinct to launch onto the human man’s face and rip out his eyes and tongue.

Sol looked back up at Dib, holding their hands out soothingly. Stepping forward, they tried to get between the two so they could ease the tension. 

“Dib! Zim! Okay, look, why don’t we all calm down. Okay? See? We’re all good!” 

Their attention whipped to the side when they felt Dib grab their forearm, yanking them towards him. They couldn’t deny that, despite it being from him, the feeling brought up instincts in them to fight back… They didn’t like being grabbed. They felt themself visibly stiffen, staring at Dib firmly. 

“You don’t understand… remember I said I do paranormal studies? Well, he’s an ALIEN. I need you to believe me! You gotta get away-” 

“Dib! Let go of me. Look I-” 

Before Sol could finish their statement, the feeling of small, gloved arms wrapped around their torso, yanking them from Dib’s grip. Before they could process what had happened, they realized they were now behind Zim, one of his gloved hands still clinging to them desperately as he stood tall on his PAK legs, between them and Dib. 

They couldn’t deny the slight sense of relief that came with being removed from the harsh grip, just as they couldn’t deny that they were thankful that he hadn’t fully removed the contact between them. 

The alien snarled menacingly, his lips curling back to expose zippered teeth in their full feral glory. His long, spindly tongue slid out pointedly, enunciating each word as his tone growled out in a manner none of the group had heard before.

“Do not **touch** this human again, Dib-filth! **Ever** , do you understand, Zim?!” 

Dib stared at the Irken, unable to deny that the oddly viscous behavior shook him slightly, sending a shiver down his spine and cold sweat down the back of his neck. There had been a handful of times Zim had been a genuine threat during their years facing each other, but he could count on one hand the number of times the alien had struck genuine fear into him.

This was one of those times.

Swallowing, he stepped forward again, trying to ignore the Irken suspended at eye-level with him. 

Sol raised a hand, stopping him before he could speak. 

“I already know Zim’s an alien, Dib.” 

Dib’s eyes went wide as saucers. 

“You WHAT? Then what are you doing?! Are you crazy?” 

Sol sighed, standing up fully. Their mouth contorted in agitation at the phrase in the accusation. Putting a hand on Zim’s shoulder, they managed to get him to meet their eyes. The moment they did, he lowered to the ground, kicking the dirt below his feet, still obviously disgruntled. 

Looking up at Dib, Sol met his confused stare head on. 

“Thank you for worrying, Dib… we should definitely talk about this. But I’m okay. And Zim and I have an understanding. But yeah… maybe I am a bit fucking crazy.”

Dib stared at the pair, unable to put two words together as he watched them grab the Irken’s gloved hand, seemingly without the alien either noticing or caring. He looked as if they had physically struck him, attempting to process the response as he numbly watched them turn away. 

Zim’s hand in theirs, Sol gave him a gentle tug, leading him away from the altercation as he grumbled to himself. In the back of their mind they couldn’t help but think of him as a petulant child, with how he was grumbling as they tugged him along, making them chuckle slightly. 

Finally, now that they were out of sight of the other human, Zim tiredly sneered up at Sol. 

“And just what is so funny, human…” 

Sol shook their head, briefly glancing down at him. They gave his hand a slight squeeze as they walked. 

“Nothing is funny... I’m sorry our usual plans got ruined… So, how about we just go to my place and I’ll order some takeout. Tacos or something. Sound good?” 

Zim nodded, unintentionally giving their hand a squeeze back. Every one of his instincts told him to pull away, but for some strange reason, the feeling of their hand in his felt like the only thing grounding him right then. As if, if he let go, he’d disappear from this insignificant speck of dirt forever. 

The thought made him grip tighter, his gaze landing on their joined hands, confusion filling him. 

Sol cleared their throat, avoiding eye contact as they walked hand in hand back towards their home. 

“So… what’s the deal with you and Dib… safe to say you two don’t get along.” 

Zim answered half-heartedly, still zoned in on where their bodies connected. 

“Correct.” 

Sol hummed at the vague acknowledgment. 

“Okay… Well, then what was all that about just now? Why’d you freak out at him, anyway? He and I know each other, it’s not like he would really do anything to me- But… thank you for helping… I really appreciated it.” 

Memories flashed to Zim’s mind, listening and realizing just who Sol had been performing for, mere hours after the day they had spent together. When he recognized the voice as his nemesis, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Knowing Dib was the human watching them… why did it bother him? Why did it flood his mind and make him want to keep them away from the Dib-thing? 

It made him want to make it abundantly clear that this human was _his_.

Zim paused, his steps faltering. 

That couldn’t be right, could it?

He pulled his hand from the human’s grip, walking ahead a few paces. 

“The Dib-stink is nothing. Just a pain in my splorch sack…”

Sol followed behind, giving the alien a wide berth as they listened. 

Zim stopped his steps again, turning on his heel. 

“Afterall, what does Zim care if you do your ‘cam show thingies’ with the Dib? ZIM DOESN’T CARE!” 

That statement made Sol pause. 

“Wait. Wait… Backup… Dib’s one of my watchers? How do you know that?” 

Zim stared at them like they’d grown a second head, squinting tightly.

“I’ve only had to hear the disgusting Dib-pig prattle and yowl for the better part of a decade. I would recognize his voice anywhere.” 

Realization crept in as Sol processed Zim’s reason. 

Well, shit. Dib was CryptidHunter, then… He was the only client they had ever put on audio.

Sol sighed, making a mental note of this. At least he didn’t seem to realize who they were, or if he did, he was fantastic at hiding it. 

Oh well. 

Sol glanced at the pouting alien, who seemed in his own world. Suspicion began to creep into Sol’s mind. 

“Hey, Zim… are you… maybe… jealous?” 

The Irken stiffened, quickly turning and meeting the human's eyes. 

Memories of that night raced to the forefront of his mind. Despite his irritation over hearing the Dib-stink, he found himself entranced by his human yet again. He found himself unable to focus on any of the work he had planned for that night, instead holing up in his lab and watching the scene unfold on his forearm communicator. The strange feeling rose in his belly, tightening further and further, but unable to find any form of relief, no matter how much he silently pleaded for it. It only made his frustration, and his obsession with watching the regular scenes, grow. 

“Wh-what?! How dare you accuse Zim of such blasphemy!” 

Despite his arguing, a dark green flush rose up the alien’s neck and cheeks. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t want the disgusting Dib-human touching them… spending time with them… 

They were **his** … If anyone would do these things…

He shook his head. Where were these damn thoughts coming from- 

The now all too familiar feeling in his belly rose, tightening uncomfortably. He silently flicked a hand to his abdomen, clenching it through his jacket and tunic as he ground his teeth. 

Reaching his free hand out, he grabbed the human’s hand again, tugging them along, much like they had done to him earlier. Strangely enough, the moment he gripped their hand, the feeling in his core both seemed to worsen, and become more… tolerable? 

He pondered his body’s reaction, grumbling under his breath. 

“Let’s get back to your house already. I’m indulging in the candy stash.” 

Sol grinned gently, threading their fingers awkwardly into the Irken’s four fingered grip, pausing to give him time to pull away, and smiling slightly wider when he didn’t. They stepped slower, keeping in time with his pace. 

“Sure… that sounds like a good idea, Zim…”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may feel short or cut off, and if so, I apologize!  
> It was actually getting pretty long so I decided to find a nice cut off point and split it into two chapters~  
> This should mean an upcoming chapter sooner rather than later, though, since most of the following chapter is nearly ready to go! 
> 
> We'll be dealing with the less fun sides of chronic physical and mental illness in this and the following chapter, as well as Zim learning how to support someone going through an especially hard bout of these things. 
> 
> As always, there will be an avalanche of feelings along the way. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy my meager offering~

Zim adjusted the goggles on his face, wiping his brow before leaning down again, hunching over the various tubing he was welding together. Sticking his tongue out as he focused, his brow scrunched up slightly. His latest plans involved a good deal of hand crafting and fine tuning before they would be ready for any mass production levels. 

Thankfully, that was something he was good at and took pride in. He could improve any base level Irken technology, given even just a few hours time to tinker with it. Left to build something from the ground up? When he really put his mind to it, he’d do a far better job on it than if he just put instructions into his computer to fabricate it.

Shutting off the small, electronic torch with a _click_ , he pulled the goggles up, resting them on his head. 

“COMPUTER.” 

An annoyed, mechanical voice rang out around him as he clambered down from his workspace, sliding down the ladder’s sides until he tapped down onto the floor with ease. 

“Uuuuuugghhhhhh. What.” 

“What is the human doing?” 

Silence hung in the air for a brief moment, Zim walking over to a cluttered workbench and swiping up a bottle of Diet Poop, sipping from it loudly. 

“The human is sleeping.” 

The Irken nodded, still sipping his drink for a moment. Something in the back of his mind struggled and strained to click into place, though. Why did that feel... wrong? 

Putting the bottle back onto the cluttered work surface, he pulled up his wrist gauntlet, the three dimensional display flaring to life. A few brief swipes of his fingers and he realized why that news had seemed so off to him. 

It was well into the afternoon. Why were they still sleeping? The human hadn’t slept past noon once since he had begun watching them. 

“Hmm… Computer, take me to the Observation Deck. Have all visuals of the human’s domicile on display.” 

“Yes Sirrrrrrrrr~” 

The AI retorted in a whiny tone, immediately transporting him to the requested level. The moment that Zim was in the room, he stepped off of the platform, barely waiting for it to fully settle and fuse into place with the floor before he stormed towards the computer console. Leaning his full weight on the console, he narrowed his eyes, inspecting all the various camera angles. 

Nothing was out of place... Everything was exactly as it was when they had gone to bed the night before, giving him a brief wave and telling him goodnight through the cameras, as had become their ritual. 

Flicking his eyes to the main camera, he saw the familiar lump in their bed, a human hand and foot sticking out from under the plush covers. 

By all means, he shouldn’t care what they were doing. So they were sleeping during the day. What did he care? 

His mind strayed to how religiously they followed their routines, to the point of logging things. An unfamiliar pit formed in his stomach. Something must be wrong with the human for them to suddenly change their routine like this. What if they were sick or dying? 

Well, then he wouldn’t have any more of those delicious food stuffs! He couldn’t allow that. Not until he managed to find contact with His Tallest again or set up another Irken food supplier- 

It was decided. He simply had no other option. He had to check on the pitiful squish-beast. 

The alien nodded to himself as he stepped into action, pleased with his reasoning. 

Rushing to gather his disguise, he tossed his hoodie on in a hurry, refusing to acknowledge the shred of anxiety that kept rising and falling in his throat anytime that immovable form, only a glimpse of limb visible, came to mind. 

As he grabbed his contact lenses and tried to put them in, he realized his hands were shaking, finding it increasingly difficult to put them in without poking himself in the eye. After multiple failed attempts, paired with twice as many shouts of pain and irritation, he let out an anguished grumble. 

“ZIM DOESN’T HAVE THE TIME FOR THIS.” 

Grabbing a small piece of tech from one of his drawers, no larger than a human coin and sporting the Irken Armada’s logo, he clipped it to his hoodie pocket. Clicking it twice, a shimmering effect suddenly covered Zim’s form, reflecting his surroundings to give a near perfect illusion of invisibility. Anyone looking directly at him could see him, of course. But when he hastened, and no one knew to look for him, it was good for emergency stealth. 

It had been something he had been working on in his spare time, intended for invasion purposes, but right now… it was necessary. He was in a hurry. 

Making his way out of his base, he quickly used his PAK legs, scaling nearby buildings and crossing them at a fevered pace until he reached the edge of town. 

When the tiny, familiar house came into view, in record time, Zim let out a long-held breath. Immediately moving towards the bedroom window, he slid it open, letting himself inside as quietly as possible. 

Sure enough, there was his human, sound asleep, having tossed and turned out of the covers since he last checked his monitors, their soft belly exposed and their arms hugging a pillow into their face. 

A relieved breath escaped him when he saw that they had been moving around, the realization that some part of him had feared they were dead blooming in the recesses of his mind. 

The Irken inched forward, humming to himself as he watched their face contort, a look of discomfort clear on their face before they rolled over again, turning away from him. 

He cleared his throat, attempting to get their attention. 

No response.

Stepping around the human’s bed, he spotted the journal he regularly saw them writing in. 

“Perhaps something in their logs will give me a clue as to why they are acting all schmoopy then.” 

Pausing before he picked up the book, waiting to see if they responded to his comment, he felt a strange pang in his belly when he received none. Picking up the book, he flipped it open to the most recently marked page, examining it. 

With a quick scan, he noticed various dates, with things such as meals, sleep, and hygiene written into the log. Figuring that was as good a place as any to start, he scanned the page, suddenly stopping when he noted the date. 

This wasn’t today’s log... 

He flipped through the pages, back and forth, checking dates and comparing, quickly finding today's date to discover the page completely bare. The pages before were bare as well. 

His brow creased, digesting the information. 

Had they stopped logging these things in their journal? If so, why? And if not, then did that mean they had ceased tending to their basic needs? 

Zim’s spine felt a tingle at the thought, his antennae practically vibrating in irritation. 

His head flicked to stare at the human next to him in the bed. Either scenario was a bothersome one. And both made him question… **what** could have them behaving this way? 

He was an Irken Invader! A superior species! He had been observing this human for weeks now. He should be able to suss out what had been different lately, to make their behavior suddenly shift. It was a simple matter of analysis… so what was different…

The gears in his head turned until finally his breath caught in his throat. 

“It couldn’t be. It’s just… coincidence!”

The alien checked the date of the last log entry, counting back mentally.

The last entry was the dinner they had together a few days ago, after their encounter with Dib. 

A thought crossed his mind that left him frozen, suddenly unable to breathe. 

What if they were acting strange because of how he had acted? If this was his fault… 

He shoved the thought from his mind, biting it down. That couldn’t be all of it though, could it? Something else was going on, he just couldn’t put his finger on what. 

Glancing at the journal again, he gazed over it, suddenly snapping to attention and staring at a section marked ‘Meds’. 

Snapping the book shut, he placed it back in its former spot, only to turn on his heel and hurry down the hallway, crossing the small house in record time. Scanning the small kitchen, he spied the plastic box he always saw the human distributing their medications from, picking it up and promptly inspecting it. 

On the plastic box was an array of smaller, translucent compartments, labelled by day, as well ‘morning’ and ‘night’. Quickly comparing the last empty compartment with the current date…

His eyes widened a fraction for a only moment, his anxiety returning. 

He had no time to sit and ponder, though. His instincts forced him into action, moving on impulse to correct what was apparently wrong. 

Bringing the box of medication with him, he opened the mini-fridge as he passed it, pulling out the cartoon of juice he usually saw them take them with, bringing both to the bedroom. Slipping onto the bed, he placed both items to the side, hesitantly putting a hand on the human’s shoulder. 

“Human. Wake up. Immediately.” 

Sol stirred, unable to find the energy to fully rouse. 

“Hhh?” 

Zim frowned, giving their shoulder a firmer shake. He groaned low in his throat. They _needed_ to wake up. 

“Sol… wake up for Zim. You have to wake up, Sol...” 

Sol’s face scrunched up, a tiny groan escaping them as they tried to force their tired eyes open. It couldn’t have been, but they could have sworn they heard Zim call their name? Someone was calling their name...

Drearily looking up through half-lidded eyes, they vaguely registered the Irken sitting in their bed with them, donning no disguise. 

They burrowed into their pillow, closing their eyes as they reached an exhausted hand out towards the Irken, barely touching his jacket with their fingertips. “Izzat you, Zim? What’re you doing here?” 

Zim’s mouth contorted at the response, unsure what to make of it. He reached down, pausing briefly before slipping a hand around them, jostling them to encourage them to sit up. 

“Zim told you to wake up. That is what Zim is doing here, stupid human.” 

Sol let a small half-grin slip across their face, finally caving and sitting up with a sigh, their eyes squinting into the afternoon light. 

“There, that’s more like the Zim I know…” 

Zim’s antenna twitched as he looked at the human in confusion. 

Sol shrugged. “Calling me ‘human’. That’s all.” 

Zim flinched, his antennae slicking back to his head. “Oh.” 

Sol looked to the small alien, slipping a hand to his soothingly. 

“Hey. It’s cool. I promise. So… what’s up? I’m awake and among the living now.” They tiredly blinked at the Irken to their side, giving his hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement. 

Zim couldn’t help but inwardly recoil at the phrase. 

Firming his resolve, he kept his tone steady. He had no personal reason for this; he had to remind himself. 

“When I went to check on your live-feed, I discovered that you were still in your human nest. By now you are usually quite busy with your day. When I checked your logs I discovered that you haven’t been keeping up with them.”

His eyes averted from them, wishing he could disappear into a hole for even coming here. This was a mistake.

Sol’s own gaze softened. 

Reaching a hand up, they gently touched the alien’s cheek, cupping it in their palm. Every movement felt like hellfire in their muscles and nerves, but they moved none-the-less. They felt Zim stiffen at the touch, his eyes growing wide for a split second before softening again. 

Letting them direct his face with the benevolent touch, he looked up into their face again, suddenly finding himself staring into their awkward, yet strangely compassionate smile. 

“Zim… thank you…” 

The human sighed softly and drew a thumb across the smooth skin of his cheek, exploring the strange sensation for a moment before pulling away. 

It took every bit of Zim’s strength not to follow his urge to lean towards the ghost of the feeling of their hand again, some unknown part of him craving the warmth of their fingers.

“I guess I kinda owe an explanation…” They let out a remorseful chuckle, looking up at their ceiling as they slipped their hands to their feet, pulling their legs close into their body. 

“Well, no, that’s not right… maybe not that I owe an explanation, but… I wanna give one. Because I’m tired, and I’m... sad? And I could use to talk. So I’ll explain what’s up, if you wanna listen. If not, that’s okay too. Because if that’s the case, I can promise you that once I just… get enough sleep, I’ll be okay. And I’ll be back to normal, and we can go back to me making food and grocery shopping, and you keeping an eye on me like some weird bug in an observation dome...” 

Sol looked to the Irken, trying to hide the desperation in their eyes. As much as they were trying to give him an out, some small part of them hoped the alien would stay. 

Without giving it a second thought, before Zim could think to stop himself, he felt his response flowing off his tongue. 

“Sol. Tell Zim.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of the previous installment; this one is a tad longer, and the reason I broke them up~  
> I hope it is everything you all have been waiting for!  
> We get a little bit of bonding and backstory. As well as some confusing feelings and coping from both sides.

A sense of relief filled Sol’s body at those three simple words. 

A quiet sigh escaped them as they adjusted their surrounding bedding, finding a comfortable position that gave them sufficient support. 

“So, this is kind of a lot. But also… not. If that makes sense?” They made a face at themself, shaking their hands in front of their face. 

“I’ll try to make it make sense… my point is you might wanna get comfortable. I don’t know how long this will take...” 

Zim nodded, unable to deny the shred of his curiosity growing with each word. Adjusting himself, he found a comfortable spot facing the human, reclining back with his legs sprawled out towards them. 

Sol took a controlled breath, rubbing their thighs anxiously with their palms. 

“So, you already know I take medications.” They indicated towards the med box next to him. “The reason I take them is that I’ve got, well, some physical issues. Invisible disabilities. I won’t go into a ton of details there right now. But I’ve also got a slew of mental illnesses to go with them. Hell, I’ve got enough physical and mental illnesses to make alphabet soup!” 

Sol forced a hollowed smile at their attempt at humor, despite knowing it wouldn’t mean anything to the Irken. 

“Because of those illnesses, I have certain medications that help me function and keep the related symptoms under control. They keep my pain levels manageable and keep various other problems from getting worse or flaring up.” 

They reached over and picked up the journal from their bedside table, taking another deep breath before beginning again, handing it to the Irken as they pointed at different sections of it. 

“One thing that some mental illnesses affect is memory… and, well, I call it ‘brain fog’. I struggle to focus and that kind of has to do with memory, as well. But, between the two, I struggle to do basic things… I won’t remember if I’ve eaten or if I’ve slept enough. Or if I’ve taken the medications I need, just to keep myself healthy and alive, and to keep my memory from being worse. The whole nine yards. It becomes a vicious, self-destructive cycle.”

Zim thumbed through the pages, finally processing the full reasoning for the logs, as well as the information contained in them. His Irken implants quickly scanned the pages as he flipped the pages, memorizing what information he could, now that he knew what it _meant_. 

He looked up at the human again, flipping a final page as his tone piqued questioningly. 

“Is this an abnormality, or is this a common occurrence among humans?” 

Sol’s brows rose slightly, only momentarily. It soothed them that he transitioned so quickly into his natural, alien curiosity. Staying matter-of-fact and clinical about the subject helped them distance themselves from the topic slightly, even if it was exhausting to explain when all they wanted currently was to sleep. 

“Well, it’s kind of in-between… There are plenty of humans born with differences like mine, and others who develop physical or mental illnesses later in life. While it’s not the ‘norm’, it's far from uncommon... I’m one of the latter. I got mine thanks to a childhood accident.” 

Zim nodded curtly, noticing as they had leaned harder into the pillows supporting them, propping themselves up with their arm. The alien snatched up the carton of juice, fully extending his arm and shoving it at them as he looked away. 

“Is that what is wrong? This… sickness you speak up? Why not just take your intended medical rations and fix it then?” 

Sol blinked at the carton, chuckling after a moment and taking it slowly. Cracking the cap open, they took a thankful sip. It soothed their parched throat, apparently more dehydrated than they realized. 

Glancing at the clock on their table momentarily, they shook their head at Zim, smiling softly as they reached out a hand to his, cradling it. They rubbed a thumb over the gloved appendage, the leathery material strangely foreign, but also soothing to touch. 

Zim found his attention flicking to where they now touched, his fingers instinctually closing, gripping them back. He couldn’t help but briefly think of how vastly different their hands were.

“I appreciate that. And I would if I could, but most of what I’m on is time released and has to be taken at set times… I’m way past when my morning dose needs to be taken. I just have to ride it out and reset. I’ll take tonight's dose and start fresh then…”

Zim frowned briefly at the medbox, but nodded, extending a PAK leg to grab it and move it out of the way and to the bedside table, along with the log he was still holding. How crude human medicine was, to be so finicky. He barely kept down a sneer at the thought of how pitiful the human attempts at it were, but managed the task, priding himself on his restraint. Even with his crude knowledge of humans’ intimate workings, surely even he could do better than this… he had started in the scientific field before his Invader days, after all. But that was a thought for another time.

“Other than these medical rations, is there anything that can be done in the meantime?” 

Sol’s eyebrows rose at the inquiry. They chalked up a forced smile. 

“It’s nothing to worry about. I just need to sleep it off!” 

Zim eyed them suspiciously, a vaguely accusatory stare boring into them. “Hmm-” 

The human rolled their eyes, tiredly caving under the pressure as they flopped onto their side, yanking the covers up again. “UGH FINE. I could just… use some company honestly… I need to not be alone right now. I need some rest and need to, well, just make it through today until I can take my next dose. Once I do, it’ll help me sleep tonight and I can set a reminder to take my meds in the morning. New day and all that shit…” 

They looked to the Irken who was already watching them again. They had fully expected him to not want to be bothered, being far too busy to babysit a lonely human, but they found themselves surprised at the alien’s response. 

“Alight.” 

Sol blinked over the covers at him as the alien moved the carton of juice away, starting to nest himself into the covers as well, an arms-length or so away from them. 

“Wh-” 

Zim looked into the human’s face as he laid down facing them, dragging down a pillow for himself. Once settled, he crossed his arms defiantly. 

“Without Zim here, you will simply shmoop about and sleep, and keep forgetting to eat and take your medical rations. So Zim will stay until then. It would do me no good to have to come clean up your body. You have proven too valuable of an information source. This is an act of necessity.” 

Sol tried to fight down the fluttering, light feeling of relief welling up inside them; the alien’s gesture comforting them far more than he could understand. A heaving sigh escaped their lips, their entire body shuddering and sinking deeper into the covers. 

Zim couldn’t help but watch as the human’s body relaxed, sinking down as the tension retained in them left with the exhale of air. It took all of his restraint not to reach out and touch them in that moment, curious to see what they felt like in that relaxed state. But he restrained himself, for fear of making that tension return; for fear that if he did, it would have be the last time.

His antennae wiggled curiously as a question formed in the back of his mind. Tilting his head, he looked up slightly, meeting the angle of their face. A tingle of anxiety returned to him, making his stomach flip. He needed to verify his suspicions. 

“If you know that this happens, why did you stop using your log?” 

Sol’s face dropped as recognition flittered through their gaze, the question stirring up thoughts they’d tried to avoid. 

The moment Zim saw the look of their face sink, he felt his squeedlyspooch tighten into knots, suddenly seeming to be made of lead. He silently wished he could take the question back. Maybe he should go back into his logs and find that research… what was it, time spheres? He wanted to go back in time. He regretted this. It was his fault after all, wasn’t it? He didn’t like the thought of that… why?

Sol anxiously chewed at their lip, cracking their knuckles under the covers before sighing. 

“So, remember when we ran into Dib?” 

“SHIT-” 

He cursed under his breath. He was fucked. He knew it. 

They tiredly looked up at him. “He just… He said something at the end. And normally it wouldn’t be a big deal. From anyone else, I wouldn’t care. But, coming from someone that’s a friend, or well, close to it… I don’t know…” 

They shook their head slightly, continuing on quickly, forcing it out in one breath. 

“And I know you and Dib have some whole ‘thing’, and I know I need to hear about that, and I promise I want to. But you also need to know that I know him. And to have him of all people calling me fucking **crazy**?? It just… I don’t know… it triggered something. I stopped paying attention to my routines and logging things. And once I stopped doing that, I stopped CARING and remembering… and now here I am… tired and depressed and in pain… God, I’m stupid and can’t take care of myself, I’m sorry. I’m the worst human to watch fall apart. Go find a better one, like right now, please?” 

They stared over at Zim, alligator tears falling silently down their cheeks and face into the pillow against their head, soaking the fabric and their face. 

The Irken let out a long-held breath as he processed everything the human had just said. 

For a few moments he merely lay next to them, watching them sniffle, processing everything, unsure what to say or do. He couldn’t deny the instant relief that he was not the cause behind the human’s sudden shift in behavior. But to have that anxiety morph into full on seething anger towards his nemesis in one swift sentence left him breathless. 

Before he’d even had time to process the information though, his human had devolved into an emotional, blubbering mess, covered in tears and whatever other excretions were coming from their face. It was messy and gross. But all Zim wanted to do was fix it. It distressed him greatly to see the normally cheery human so utterly broken. 

Reaching an arm out questioningly, he paused, before giving in to the urge and patting their clothed shoulder. Apparently it was the right move, as the human leaned towards the small touch ever so slightly, seeking the comfort. 

Sol found themself scooting closer to the alien after the initial comforting touch, desperate for any form of grounding, affirming touch as they broke down. 

Slowly, the small gloved hand patting their shoulder began to rub circles into it, widening its space until soon the little Irken had to readjust, slipping his arm over the human to hold them close, rubbing their back. 

Zim let out a small huff of a sigh, turning his head to the side so it rest on the human’s shoulder, closing his eyes. From here, the smell of their skin was overwhelming; the feeling of their chambered heart thumping away under their chest, keeping time against him like a metronome. The steady pace of it was finally slowing down as they calmed down, the sound of their quiet sniffles fading, replaced by soft breaths. 

The feeling of their soft back and shoulder, under the thin fabric, soothed and entranced him as much as it did them. The lack of PAK on their back made the touch feel so bare, more intimate than this should have been. He followed the curve of their spine, tracing it curiously before following it back up again.

He was almost certain they had fallen asleep; practically praying in his head to his Tallest for it, when suddenly he heard a small, gravely voice from just behind his inner ear. 

“Hey, Zim?” 

“Hm-”

He felt their arm slip up, wrapping over him much as he had done to them. He stiffened slightly, easing after a moment, unable to fight the tiny wisps of pleasure that swirled inside of him with each pass of their fingers on his back and PAK. 

A particular pass of their fingertips over the seams of his PAK sent an electrical surge through his body, making him stiffen. 

“Can you tell me more about yourself? If you ever want me to forget, I already have memory problems. I’ll let you turn my brain to pudding… It’ll be easy. I just wanna know, though.” 

Zim’s insides twisted at the way they said the question. He swallowed hard, contemplating not whether to tell them about himself, but how much. 

So. He started at the beginning. 

He told them that he was an Irken Invader. Sent to Earth to prepare their planet for interplanetary conquest. He told them how long he had been here, and of a few of his plans that had nearly panned out. He spoke of Dib, and their push and pull relationship. Never quite friends, nor enemies, but something treading the line of both. 

As Zim spoke, Sol nodded along, their chin still on his shoulder, occasionally asking questions when they needed clarity. They laughed, their chest aching in the best way as it resonated against his own chest, when he told them of his strange robot assistant/pet and some of the antics the creature got into. 

When the Irken began to speak of a particular incident though, Sol pulled away from their loose embrace, their tired gaze becoming steadily more aware as recognition bloomed in their eyes. 

They looked into Zim’s eyes for a moment, closing their eyes again as they thought back as hard as they could. 

“Wait, so you did... WHAT?” 

Zim shrugged a single shoulder, turning onto his back. He pulled up his wrist gauntlet and had it project a hologram of the former incident above them. 

“Oh, yes. It was one of my best works. I replaced Membrane, the Dib-stink’s father, and reprogrammed the Peace Day bracelets so that when the children of Earth completed the annulus, the entire Earth was transported directly to my Tallest. The Florpus hole was just a minor side effect, but I won’t get into that. If it hadn’t been for Dib and his family’s meddling, it would have been a great success. That day was also the last day I had a successful transmission with my Tallest. Which I am still in the process of sorting out. But I will shortly have that-” 

Sol pinched the bridge of their nose, furrowing their brow. 

“Peace Day?! Holy Shit... Zim!” 

Zim looked to the human in surprise as they sat up, their sudden shift in mood taking him off-guard. He blinked at them in confusion. 

“Yes, what about it?” 

Sol crossed their legs as they ran a hand over their head, the feeling of their short hair feathery against their palm. 

“You’re not getting it. They swept it under the rug. Cleaned up and then just… everyone went back to normal. If you even bring it up now, it’s like people forgot about it. I knew I wasn’t fucking crazy…” 

They looked intently at Zim. 

“Zim… I can’t believe you’re the one that was _behind_ it. That’s so insane. What a small world… I was part of it. I was one of the kids that got recruited for the bracelet chain. I was like 13! I barely made the age cutoff, but distinctly remember my parents making me do it… I’ll never forget it because of that.” 

Zim felt a strange pang when he heard that they had been directly involved. Part of him was proud. That they had known his work was essentially the peak of Invader pride. He was officially renowned. But why did it also... bother him?

Sol leaned back on their hands, reminiscing. 

“Man, that was so _weird_. Are all of your plans grandiose? If so you’re amazing, Zim. All I remember now was like… some weird cat trying to attack me and the other kids during it, and then a cop coming and hauling it away?” They laughed loudly at the memory. “Then things got REALLY weird, oh it was… yeah it was terrifying, but it was so cool. All these planets and colors and shit. Don’t remember much after that…” They slipped a hand to their shoulder as they zoned out, continuing on. “I tried to look into it as I got older but no one would talk about it, so eventually I started to think it was just some weird, childhood fever dream.”

Shaking their head, they managed to refocus again, looking at the Irken, who seemed in his own thoughts. 

Smiling slightly, they tugged his glove to get his attention. 

“You wanna see something kind of cool though?” 

Zim nodded absentmindedly. 

His cheeks flushed darker, his skin growing warm and his antennae suddenly jolting upright as the human turned around, peeling off their shirt, leaving them completely bare from the hips up. 

Within moments, his eyes caught on what they must have meant to show him. Something his cameras hadn’t revealed to him. 

His breath held in his throat as he reached a gloved hand out, unable to keep from placing a hand against the beautiful markings sticking out against the human’s tanned hide. 

Starting on their left shoulder and travelling down towards their buttocks was an electrical looking scar, as if lightning was permanently tattooed upon their body, splintering out in intricate designs across their shoulder, back, and hip. 

As Sol felt the gloved fingers trace against their skin, they looked back over their shoulder, giving a lopsided smile. 

“It’s a Lichtenberg Figure. It’s what happens sometimes when a human is struck by lightning, or electricity, and survives.”

Zim’s mouth hung open slightly as he marvelled at the marking gracing their bare back. Their exposed back, no PAK gracing it, was already an intriguing sight, but combined with the intricate design, he couldn’t turn away. He found himself memorizing every detail as if it would disappear at any moment. 

“It is marvelous.” 

Sol blushed slightly at the comment, their ears reddening. 

“Thanks… On the way back, the second zap back apparently generated some strange electrical surges. One got me; entered at the joint of my neck and shoulder and exited my left leg. You can still see the mark on the bottom of my foot there too. That ones less pretty and more funny looking though.”

Zim nodded, making mental notes of the interesting phenomena. He noticed the human’s face contort into one of awkward disquiet shortly after, though. 

“What is it?” 

Sol waved their hands dismissively. “It’s nothing major! This is also just what caused my health issues… turns out being electrocuted can give you lifelong physical and mental problems. Who knew?” They laughed at their own remark, making light of the subject. 

The slight discomfort that had been rising in Zim’s guts suddenly grew, taking up his entire chest, swelling up into his throat. The realization sunk in that he had condemned them to this life.

Suddenly he felt repulsed at himself for finding the scar beautiful mere moments before. 

He ripped his hand away, as if scalded, looking down at the gloved appendage in anger. 

Was this guilt? 

He loathed it. 

He had never felt guilt or remorse in his entire life. Irkens had no need for such menial feelings. Let alone Invader classes. **Especially** for the creatures they had been sent to destroy! So why did it physically pain him to realize something he had done had affected this single human so greatly? 

His mind screamed, trying to make sense of his thoughts as they kept becoming overwhelmingly louder and louder. 

Suddenly a single thought struck him, silencing the others in a single moment. 

He would simply fix it. 

With his mighty brain, and access to Irken advancements, he could easily fix anything wrong with this human. Hell, he could probably improve their life this way. They would more than forgive his grievance! Then he wouldn’t have to feel these terrible things anymore! He could treat the source of the problem after he eliminated the appalling symptoms plaguing him-

All at once, he felt warm hands cup his face, tilting his face upwards. His thoughts thankfully went blank, silence filling his mind as he found himself staring into the human’s calm face, their eyebrows drawn together in concern. Their eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite place as their head tilted slightly downward, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Hey. Stop Overthinking...this was why I felt weird bringing that part up. Maybe I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry for that. But I wanted to be honest.”

They pulled away slightly and slipped a hand soothingly back across his jawline, towards the base of his skull. They scraped their fingers along the back of his head, letting them rest behind his neck, cradling him towards them softly.

“I need you to remember that I don’t hate this scar. I might be trans and I might want to change things about myself. But my scars and disability aren’t those things. I love myself how I am. Even the hard to love parts. I don’t have to be like everyone else to be happy. I came to terms with that a long time ago.” 

Zim bit his tongue, nodding along to their reason. Shaky hands slipped up towards the human, unsure of themselves, but wanting to return the assuring touch that was so unfamiliar yet so strangely comforting. 

Noticing the Irken’s hands, Sol leaned into his touch, meeting him part way to encourage him. 

The moment he felt the human’s flesh under his gloves, he slid his hands against their jaw and neck, exploring them fervently. Each tender touch intentional and desperate. A breath escaped him, his words falling from his lips before he could process them. 

“How can you not loathe Zim for doing this-” 

Sol smiled, sighing evenly. 

“If you’d asked me that a few months ago I might have, but… I think it might be kismet that this happened. That we met.” 

Zim huffed in confused irritation, shaking his head, refusing to break contact with the human. 

“Zim does not know what that is.” 

Sol chuckled, pulling away breathlessly, Zim instinctually trailing after for a few moments before looking up at them. Every bit of his DNA was at war within him, both craving the touch and knowing it was inherently against his species nature. The corner of Sol’s mouth quirked slightly. If Zim were more sure of himself, he would say it was almost a forlorn look. 

“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking though… I’ll tell you if I figure it out.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secrets get revealed.  
> New feelings and experiences arise. 
> 
> Zim's been watching Sol when they do their streams.  
> Doing so finally bites him in the ass when new developments just lead to more questions.
> 
> A smut heavy chapter ahead, so heads up!

Zim curled up in the massive chair in his Observation Room, munching away at a bag full of snacks as he watched the flickering screens before him. He muttered minor annoyances to himself, grunting and grumbling as he watched Sol go about their routine with an even more meticulous manner than they usually did. 

He’d already quickly learned when their ‘streams’ tended to be, and had learned to anticipate them. Despite telling himself he had no interest, especially thanks to the strange reactions it stirred up in him, he found himself unintentionally dipping in and out to peek in on them. Just to check in on them, he would tell himself. That was the entire reason for this, after all. He needed to monitor them! 

Ever since memorizing the patterns in their log though, he had been able to plot out when they do the shows with more accuracy. 

Having that knowledge… he couldn’t fight the voice in the back of his mind reminding him when they neared and urging him to watch. Just to monitor them, of course. 

Just to check in. 

For science.

The feelings in his belly be damned. 

The Irken watched the human meticulously paint their nude form with some type of pale, blue body paint, taking their time adding intricate white and deep blue details along their body. 

The longer they worked, he pieced together what character they were ‘dressing up’ as, as they’d explained they did for the shows. A satisfied smirk crossed his face as he realized it was a character from one game series they had been playing frequently together, as of late. It was an older Earth game, and involved exterminating aliens. The character was some human form of the main character’s AI, if he recalled correctly. 

A content chirp rose in the back of his throat unintentionally, when a loud screech sent him toppling out of his seat, panic filling his body. His back going rigid, he whipped his head around, glaring at the tiny robot who had intruded into the lower level. 

He glowered as he watched it skid to a halt, perched atop Mini-Moose. 

“GIR! What did I tell you about coming in here while I’m busy?!” 

The defective S.I.R. unit froze for a moment, thinking to itself, before picking up the moose and pointing at the screens, it’s voice cutting through the room like nails on glass. 

“You’re watching Johnny again! Hiii Johnny!” 

Zim’s face lit up like wildfire as he pulled himself upright, his snacks scattering across the floor as he scrambled upright. 

“I’m doing important research, GIR! Get out of here!” 

The robot giggled maniacally, diving into the now empty chair and kicking his feet back and forth. He hugged the moose tighter as he grinned at his master. 

“Is this your favorite showwww?” 

If Zim’s face could darken further, it would have. Picking up the bot by his leg, Zim dragged him towards the main entrance of the room, tossing him and the moose both into the elevator. 

“I said out! And I mean it this time! If you come in again, no more taquitos, GIR!” 

He could hear the sounds of anguished screams and sobs from the bot even as the elevator closed, zipping him upwards towards the main level of the house. 

Rubbing at his temples, Zim turned around and returned to his previous position, plopping into the chair with a tired sigh. Returning his attention to the screens, he realized that in the time he had dealt with the inconvenient intrusion, the human had since begun their stream. 

Flicking a holographic control near his arm, he turned the audio feed up, listening to what they were saying. 

Sol grinned excitedly, posing and showing off the body paint they had put so much work into. They didn’t do full body paint sets often, but when they did, they were always well worth the effort. A quick photoshoot beforehand took no time at all, and now that they were streaming live they were, unsurprisingly, raking in donations at a far more elevated pace than usual. 

Keeping it to an occasional stream made their fans especially excited when streams like this did happen. 

Tonight would be a good night. 

They might even double their standard haul, if they were lucky. 

“So, I take it everyone is enjoying tonight’s theme? I know I didn’t post a poll, but that’s because I’ve had this cosplay in mind and been absolutely itching to do it! I’ve been enjoying the series again lately and inspiration struck. After the stream I’ll post a photoset for everyone to enjoy, so don’t worry if you’re late to the show!” 

A flurry of responses flooded in, excitement being the prominent theme at the prospect at the announced photoset. 

Sol smiled again, raising up a finger and waggling it teasingly. 

“Also! I figured it would be nice to get into costume since you all know how much I love a theme… and I have a new toy for tonight that I cannot WAIT to try out. It was a bit of a self indulgence. I’ve talked about getting one before, and recently I decided to spoil myself, and to spoil you guys as well-” 

They couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of them as multiple responses tried to make various guesses, while others begged for a reveal. 

“Alright, alright guys! Don’t worry, I’ll give everyone a peak; I’m excited too!” 

Zim, in turn, leaned forward curiously as he watched them pad over to a box, bringing it back within view of the screen and pulling something out of it. 

Taking their time drawing the toy into the stream panel, Sol finally pulled the dildo into view. They ran their fingers over the delicate curves of the silicone, marvelling at their new toy as glee shown in their eyes. A thick, flared base curved and swirled upwards, tapering towards a forked point on the purple and pink beast of a toy. Slight ridges and bumps lined the shaft in various patterns. 

They had always had their eye on this particular tentacle-esque, alien-themed toy, but they would be a liar if they didn’t, at least inwardly, admit that a certain Irken hadn’t motivated them to finally take the plunge in ordering the toy. They’d found themselves staring at the listing on multiple late nights, wondering and fantasizing about the alien they had slowly been growing closer to. About his anatomy, if he had any. Would it be anything like this? Gods, some part deep in their belly hoped so. 

It wasn’t like they could cross that boundary, though. It was an unspoken line that didn’t dare to be crossed. 

But they could at least indulge their imagination-

Sol held the toy out and displayed it for their viewers, letting the toy explain itself as they smirked. 

The grin plastered across their face widened as an uproar broke out, the entire chat just as thrilled with the reveal as they were with the toy when it had arrived. 

They couldn’t deny an inward chuckle when they saw Dib’s familiar username chime in with merely: **’askldj;a. That… is really hot…’**.

Meanwhile, the Irken watching the human from his chair eyed the new item with newfound intrigue. 

It was different from their usual tools and something about it made the feeling in his belly return tenfold. Against his will, a chitter rose in his chest, throaty and deep, resonating into a near groan. The way their fingers trailed over the tapered shape sent shivers down his spine. 

He leaned back in the chair, squinting at the human, his attention piqued at the new piece. 

Sol ran their fingers over the new toy again, biting their lower lip slightly. Glancing at the screen, they realized they had easily passed their minimum rate for the night. Part of them was glad for that fact. Despite this stream being for work, they were eager to get off and test run this toy. 

“So, how about we break this big boy in, huh everyone?” 

They smiled as they took a seat on a chair they had set up for tonight's stream. No need to get body paint on their bedding accidentally, after all. 

Slipping one hand down their body, they ever so gently traced their nails down their form, being gentle enough not to smear their hard work. They took their time, tracing over the details painted on their body, and shuddering as they dipped with each rise and fall of their plump curves. Once their fingers reached their labia, they slowly parted their lips, exposing themselves fully as they began to slowly trace circles around their clit. 

As their left hand worked their clit, gently working themselves up, they gripped the toy with their other hand, eyeing it for a moment. Biting their lips for a moment, they considered their choices before leaning towards it and running their tongue along the shaft of the toy, revelling in the feel of each ridge and bump along their tongue. Needy huffs escaped them as the texture of the toy sent a satisfying heavy feeling to their chest. 

Looking up into the cameras for a moment, being sure to give their viewers some good money shots as they reached the tip, they dipped down, taking it into their mouth. Gently, they began to bob along the toy, letting out a groan. 

Images began to flicker in their mind as they felt the toy across their tongue, swirling their appendage over each detail, unable to fight the wish that it wasn’t a toy at all. They whined, taking more of the toy into their throat as they wondered again if the Irken had genitalia. If so, was it anything like this? Did he have a dick?

What would the creature look like as they wrapped their mouth around his alien cock, if so? The noise he had made when they accidentally touched his antenna came to mind. They wondered if he’d make more noises like that if they touched him...

The thought made them buck their hips, their fingers rubbing more vigorously along their clit, begging for any inkling of more stimulation. 

Zim watched as the human took the toy into their mouth, stimulating their genitals as they let out increasingly obscene noises. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away, the feeling in his belly growing. It felt like it was tightening… but simultaneously spreading throughout his entire body. 

Some part of his brain panicked at this realization, but some other sliver of him didn’t want to fight it. 

He watched them stroke themselves, their noises rising and falling with each touch. It made his thoughts flicker to the day the human had accidentally touched him- 

Hesitantly, a gloved hand reached upwards, towards a flicking antenna stalk. Gently taking hold of it, he keened, the feeling in his guts making him shudder. His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hand along the appendage, making the feelings inside him begin to ebb and flow, as if he were filled with warm liquid. 

His eyes strained open, watching them as they continued, unable to look away. 

Sol pulled the toy from their lips, a strand of saliva breaking away from the toy as they let out a pant. Their eyes flicked to the chat, a smirk gracing their face at the reactions they were receiving. They had called it. Tonight was hitting record viewers. 

It was a good night. 

Might as well just let themselves enjoy their orgasm and call it a night. 

Dipping their fingers deeper into their folds, they groaned. The feeling of their fingers pumping in and out for a moment, a subtle scissoring motion urging their fluids to spread and work themselves open, they rocked into their palm. Pulling out their fingers, they made a point of showing off the sticky, dripping digits towards the camera before licking them clean. 

Rising up from their position, they turned around, placing the toy on the chair before lowering their hips ever so slightly. Canting their hips, they let the forked tip flick over their clit teasingly, bracing themselves against the back of the chair. A shallow pant escaped them as they rutted down onto the toy, savoring the feeling of the taper as it widened ever so slightly with each thrust. 

After a few moments of teasing themself along the toy, they lowered their hips, taking the toy in all the way to the hilt, gasping as it stretched their entrance deliciously. Tilting their head back, they let their eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feel of the tapered toy, hitting their insides in ways they had been begging for. 

“Oh god! A-ah... So good-” 

Their thighs began to quiver, the coil in their groin winding tighter and tighter, threatening to break with each thrust. Sweat beaded along their brow; some stray thought in the back of their mind thanked that their back was to the camera. Their makeup was surely running with how excited they were. 

A guttural cry worked its way up their throat as the mental image of riding the alien in place of the toy flickered across their thoughts. 

Zim groaned as he watched the human ride the toy, brief glimpses of it showing between each rise and fall of their hips. He grumbled in frustration as the muted feeling in his antennae left him feeling… underwhelmed. 

Frustration built in him, reaching a gloved hand to his mouth, biting the glove and ripping it off of his hand with his teeth, growling as he did so. His talons quickly returned to the antenna, tracing along it in the same way Sol had, gently tracing delicate designs along the shivering stalks. 

This time the feeling in his belly roared to life, making him let out a sharp trill, the sound echoing through the room. 

His vision began to grow hazy, unable to focus on the screens before him no matter how he tried. Something inside of him wanted to happen. Needed to happen. 

He wanted relief from this feeling. 

But damn it all, why couldn’t he FIND IT?! 

It was like no matter how close to relief he was, it simply built up further until it was painful… unable to reach whatever foreign feeling his body longed for.

Forcing himself to focus on them, he watched as they rode the toy faster, their own pants and cries escalating. 

A new, unfamiliar pain began to grow between his legs, making his frustration and confusion grow. 

Yanking his leggings down to his knees, he glanced down, his chest stilling, his breath halting in his throat as he realized his slit, inconspicuous his entire life thus far, was damp. Clearish-pink fluid leaked from him, sticking to his skin and beading at his crevice. 

That had never happened before-

What was happening to him?!

The heaving in his chest began to pick up again as his mind raced. Looking up, he realized he could hear the human’s voice escalating. Wide, ruby eyes watched them as a shaky hand reached down to touch the strange, sticky fluid curiously, making his body wrench as the sensitive feeling in his belly seemed to shoot through him harder, building further. 

His body clenched, fevered breaths escaping him as his talons curiously slid over the damp slit.

Why did this feel… good? 

Zim’s brain felt like electricity was shooting through it, his eyes flicking to watch the human as his other hand gripped his tunic desperately. 

Sol bounced on the toy, occasionally grinding their clit down against the ridges. Frenzied pants and moans were a litany on their lips as their eyes began to tear up. A deep flush shone through the paint on their cheeks and chest.

“F-fuck!… A-ah… I-I’m so close!” 

Their face tilted forward, their mind racing as their imagination fueled their fantasy, making their looming orgasm grow and build, bringing them higher and higher. Images of Zim raking his gloved hands over their body, pistoning into them and yanking them down onto him sent lightning through their very veins. 

“Hnn… OH, oh God. Yes! There! T-That’s it!” 

Sol felt their fingers clench painfully, gripping into the back of the chair as they pressed down against it, the tapered tip of the toy pressing graciously into their G-spot, making their legs turn to jelly. Their eyes fluttered as keens and whines escaped them, their walls tightening around the toy, clenching onto it desperately. They felt themselves teeter off the edge of their high, falling into blissful oblivion as their orgasm washed over them. 

Their cries ripped from their throat as they rode out the feeling, their brows clenched together. 

“O-oh, FUCK! Y-yesss! ZIM!!” 

Within moments of the name leaving their lips, horrified realization crossed their face, their mouth hanging open. Their breath hung in their throat, their chest frozen as lead filled their belly.

Diving to their computer to check the stream, there was already a litany of ‘Did Saturn say a name?’ and ‘I missed it’, as well as a few ‘Does Saturn have a bf/gf now?’ filling the chat. 

Before they could shut the chat down, they saw a final message, sent in from one particular user-

**CryptidHunter: ...ZIM?!**

Sol slammed the key so hard on the end stream button they were relatively sure they broke their keyboard.

Their legs felt boneless, quivering like jelly as they shakily stood there, their heart pounding; between having no time to recover from such an intense orgasm, and having panic flood their veins immediately after, their body was ready to collapse. 

Turning slowly, they blinked at the camera facing their room, silently praying the Irken hadn’t been watching their stream tonight. 

They knew better, in their heart, though. 

Hell, that was part of why they had chosen this cosplay. 

Taking a deep breath, they swallowed hard. 

Well… they’d have had to face it, eventually. 

For now though, they bee-lined for their bathroom, hiding away in their shower so they could distract themselves, scrubbing away their bodypaint as well as their shame. 

Meanwhile Zim sat in his chair still, his leggings pooled below him, his crotch still mysteriously damp; the feeling in his belly was temporarily forgotten. His mind buzzed as the way the human cried out his name continued to ring in his ears. 

Tonight left him with even more questions than ever before!

Distractedly standing up, he pulled up his leggings, pausing to look at his bare hand, vague remnants of the sticky substance on his claws. 

The human’s voice calling his name came to mind again, making his gut clench. 

Turning his head, he stormed towards the elevator. 

It was time to find some answers.

»————- ☀ ————-«

Dib sat in his computer chair, resting his elbows on his desk as he held his forehead in his hand.

“Saturn is with Zim?! But that’s…” 

The gears in his head began to turn, recognition setting in as he raised his face from his hand. 

Collapsing back into his chair, he ran his hands through his hair in disbelief. 

“Oh my God, Sol is Saturn…”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up! This chapter has some MEAT~
> 
> We explore some Canon lore about Irkens biology and history, as well as dive into one of my favorite personal Headcanons!   
> Choices present themselves and a life-altering decision has to be made.
> 
> Also, Dib and Sol sit down and have a heart to heart! 
> 
> Secrets are revealed, feelings come to light, and the inkling of new feelings start to brew.

Zim paced the length of his lab, the sound of his boots clacking against the hard, metal floor echoing throughout the room. 

“Computer!” 

A mechanical voice whined in response, annoyance seeping into the tinny reaction. 

“Whaaaaaat-” 

“Hook up via the Humans’ Internet Archive and access all information on human sex and masturbation.” 

The voice retorted again in a mocking tone. 

“Ooh lala, yes sirrrrr~” 

Zim sneered at the response, ignoring it as multiple screens appeared around the room, information beginning to scroll across them at unrivalled speeds. His eyes darted over the information, grumbling as he read through the various articles. 

He snarled in disgust, swiping away multiple videos that popped up as well, having to sift through an overwhelming amount of information that was just blatantly repulsive and to no interest. 

“This isn’t of any help… no… no… Humans are so filthy. Such disgusting creatures.” 

As the alien took his time separating what was useful and what was not, he grew increasingly frustrated, occasionally letting out a shout at the empty room. 

“Humans’ obsession with this is something I do not think I will ever understand!” 

He sighed, pinching at his bridge for a moment before remembering his reaction earlier, the feeling that had risen in him. The brief thought skittered across his mind… 

‘If it were Sol-’ 

His attention turned to the screens again, and he felt himself calm, a moment of understanding fleeting through him before rising into confusion once again. He hummed quietly, quickly scanning another article about human sexuality and its relation to lust.

Zim’s antennae twitched, quivering for a moment. 

“Computer, Access the Irken Armada’s Archives. Pull up all files on Irken Anatomy.” 

The mechanical voice rang out, echoing in the room. 

“Accessing Irken Armada’s Archives Remotely... All accessible files shown.”

Zim took a seat and began to read through the database. He skimmed through most of it easily, having already known the vast majority of what it showed to him. 

The basics on skeletal structure and organs… no… 

Inner ear development. Definitely not. 

Subcutaneous orbital implants issued upon Irken Invader track decided in smeethood. Also no!

No discernable differences in genders among Irkens, aside from cosmetic: aka antennae styling. 

Now he was getting closer at least! He slowed down, paying careful attention as he scanned the files on Irken reproduction. 

_Irken bodies were created in standard issue cloning chambers, and upon gestation, PAKs containing personality, consciousness, and knowledge were then attached to the host body, aka smeet._

_Upon death of an Irken, be it by natural or unnatural causes, the PAK was then recycled into the main Irken database for future generations… And so the cycle would repeat. Adding to the Control Brains information and recycling viable Irken PAKs._

_PAKs deemed too dangerous, uncontrollable, or faulty in any way were to be considered ‘Defective’ and were to be Re-encoded or Destroyed._

Zim sat back, reaching the end of the section and humming as he thought over the information. His fingers thrummed against his crossed arms slowly.

It was all things he already knew, though! 

He flung his arms in the air, letting out a shrill noise of frustration. 

“This isn’t of any use! How can this be all that is in the Armada’s Archives?!” 

He paused as a thought came to mind, realization dawning on him. 

“It CAN’T be all that there is, can it? Did Irkens not exist before this? There is no way! The Irken Empire is far too great to have simply been created from nothing… unless the Control Brains created our first PAKs but even then… where are the files logging the origin of our PAKs?!” 

Zim frowned angrily, pointing at seemingly nothing as he hollered at the AI once again. 

“Computer! I said pull up ALL of the Archive files of Irken biology!” 

A loud buzzing noise rang out through the room. 

“UNABLE TO ACCESS FILES. Sir, the remaining files are encrypted.” 

Zim froze. Just what didn’t the Irken Empire want to keep hidden? 

“So un-encrypt them IMMEDIETLY! DO NOT DEFY ZIM!” 

The computer shouted back enthusiastically. 

“UN-ENCRYPTING FILES!” 

Zim leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as he watched the files slowly appear before his eyes, line by line. His antennae quivered in both excitement and anxiousness. Part of him desperately hoped he’d get the answers he was searching for, but part of him was simply too invested to find out what knowledge he was being denied. He was the Irken Elites’ finest; he had a right to know what dirty secret was being kept under such lock and key. 

As the last files appeared before him, he skimmed the scrolling text, his narrowed eyes widening as confusion turned to horrified recognition. 

“Oh My Tallest… What on Irk…” 

He mouthed over some of the key sections, having to repeat them and reread them to make sure he wasn’t reading them wrong. 

_“Irken Cloning trials, upon having successful results, will continue to replace traditional gestation reproduction methods. Results have allowed complete control of future generational DNA splicing and ideal genetic control, whereas traditional reproduction leaves margin for genetic error, and possibility for decline of the Irken race’s purity. Additional alterations upon ‘hatching’ more readily accepted among cloned individuals.”_

Zim shook his head, looking off in the distance before scanning the file again, pausing further down. 

_“PAK installment of cloned generations 99% success rate vs biological gestations 27% successful amalgamation. PAKs also have been outfitted with ingrained genetic inhibitors to prevent access to nonstandard deviations. Inhibitors installed to prevent development of secondary sex characteristics: upon success of Irken Cloning Initiative, gestational reproduction and sexual courting have been deemed unnecessary. Development of sexual characteristics will cause division and distraction.”_

Zim’s chest tightened. Sitting back in his chair, he stared at the screens, re-reading the pages repeatedly. He felt like someone had turned his world upside down. 

Part of his brain desperately tried to reason out what he read. He was loyal to the Irken Armada, after all! The decision was sound- Cloning was something he had known as fact his entire existence. It truly was superior; it was the right thing to do! Frankly, his Irken brain couldn’t find anything inherently wrong with it. Not logically, at least. It had helped make his people into the superior beings they were today! 

Right?

So why did something sit wrong, deep in his squeedlyspooch? 

Zim swallowed hard, giving the screens a last look before turning away. 

This wasn’t what he was looking for… this wasn’t what he wanted to find at all. All it did was make him question things he’d never questioned before. A loyal Invader… A true Invader didn’t question things!

His thoughts strayed to the things he’d seen earlier, the first articles he’d read about masturbation and sex from the human archives; his head trying desperately to string two thoughts together. Two dots trying ardently to connect. 

A thought dawned on him and he glanced at the static of the screens. 

Maybe he **had** gotten his answer…

Shooting to his feet, Zim stormed across the lab. Grabbing his PAK, he carefully removed it, leaving it attached via the two major ports on his spine as he laid it on the table before him, shoving clutter and various bits out of the way so he could work. Grabbing his tools, he opened the main access panel, the pink circle sliding out of view to reveal the inner workings of his core; tinkering inside the illuminated section for a few moments, he muttered Irken curses under his breath. Lines of various Irken numbers and letters scrolled at a dizzying speed across his forearm gauntlet as he worked.

Reaching over, he grabbed a small cable, hooking it into the PAK directly so he could read the coding he was accessing on his computer monitors, no longer having to struggle to see the tiny screen on his gauntlet. 

The alien’s eyes flicked across the code, processing it as fast as it scrolled by, scanning every line and scrutinizing it. 

All at once, he shouted, freezing and pointing at a section of code that appeared to be… damaged? 

His chest tightened as he looked at it, a single word echoing in his mind. His insides felt like they had been filled with live bees, thrumming loudly, unable to settle.

_Defective._

He clenched his eyes, swallowing hard before deciphering the surrounding code, making sense of it quickly. Sure enough, it was coding that involved engrained biological inhibitors.

Zim let out a shallow breath, a gloved hand scratching over his scalp in frustration. 

So these things he was feeling… that meant… what? 

His PAK wasn’t inhibiting sexual attraction? 

He found the human sexually appealing? 

His antennae stood fully erect at the realization, his face darkening as he flushed. 

Oh. 

OH. 

So he wanted to… 

With them?? 

Impossible! 

Disgusting! 

He rubbed a hand down his face. Focus on one thing at a time... 

He returned his attention to the code, letting it continue to scroll until he found another break. More coding, missing or faulty. 

This went on for what felt like hours, Zim making note of each piece of code in his PAK that was defective. 

The word kept running through his mind. 

_Defective._

**Defective.**

The Irken stared at the list of things wrong with his PAK, already well into the dozens, every time he had been called that wretched term suddenly coming to mind. Every time he had been told he messed up. Before, it had never bothered him. He was the Almighty Zim! He could do no wrong; it was just a hiccup! 

He blinked wearily at the code, and then to his PAK, tracing his claws over the metal.

He knew he could repair the faults in his PAK with ease. Repairing Irken technology came easier to him than most of his kind, for some strange reason. He could restore the programming blocking his genetic code, and even fix every other defect, if he wanted to, and took the time. 

His thoughts lingered on what the Control Brains ruled to be done with ‘Defectives’ though. 

By their laws he should be destroyed. 

His PAK should be destroyed so as to not ‘infect’ the collective. 

The Irken’s hands clenched so tightly, he felt his nails pierce his gloves, droplets of clearish-pink blood beading under the leather. 

Zim let out a frustrated shout, kicking over the nearby trash can, watching contents scatter across the room. 

Did he repair his defects and rid himself of these disgusting feelings of lust for the human? All so he could become the ideal Invader he _knew_ he was? Or did he stay loyal to the Irken Empire and destroy his PAK, and effectively, himself? 

The only thing he knew was that he had never been more unsure of himself in his entire life. 

The Irken sighed, sinking to the floor and leaning against the worktable. 

He didn’t like being unsure of himself-

»————- ☀ ————-«

Sol bit at their thumb nail, power walking back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the bookstore. Right next door was the small coffee shop that Dib worked at. They had been working up the nerve to go in and talk to him, but kept finding themselves talking their way out of it, quickly turning on their heel and walking away, only to turn back around and repeat the process.

They pulled the fluffy, animal print coat tighter around them, burrowing into it for comfort as they sighed. 

Not that they were overly worried about having this conversation. More so they felt… predatory, showing up at his work to have it. But it wasn’t like they had his number. They were only ‘loose’ friends. Barely more than acquaintances. 

But after the flubb-up on stream the other day, they needed to have a conversation with him. And they needed to do it before their next stream, which was merely two days away. And this was definitely a conversation that shouldn’t be had online. If not for the content and leaving a trail, but for respect for the man. Not to mention the altercation they’d had when he encountered them with Zim previously...

Firming their resolve, they pumped their fist, taking a final, deep breath. Walking into the cafe, the sound of the bell overhead jingled loudly, announcing their entry. The noise echoed through the mostly empty establishment, the pair of workers both looking up automatically and beginning to welcome them. 

“Welcome to-” 

As the first barista continued with the shop’s greeting, the second, Sol’s target, fell silent. 

The dark-haired man’s face fell as he watched the rubenesque figure walk in, bee-lining for the front register. 

Dib swallowed hard, his eyes darting away as he began to make their drink by memory, partially out of sheer habit. He cleared his throat, muttering to his coworker to finish what they were doing, that he could handle this customer solo. 

As Sol stepped up to the counter, they leaned onto it, pointedly looking at the bespectacled man as he worked. 

“We need to talk.” 

Dib gave a pointed look to them as well as he began to pour the monstrosity into a cup, shouting out in a hushed tone. 

“No, really?” 

Sol pursed their lips, their brows cinching in annoyance as they glanced over to make sure no one had turned to look at them. 

“Seriously, okay? I already feel gross cornering you at work, but I want to have a heart to heart. It’s not like I could call. I really think this is important. And I think we both know why-”

They quirked a brow, hoping the man would understand. 

Sighing to himself, Dib nodded. He quickly finished topping the drink, sliding it towards them. Not bothering to ring it up, he shouted over to the young woman working nearby. 

“I’m taking my break! I’ll be right up if there’s a rush, alright?” 

The young woman waved a hand at him, muttering some vague form of acknowledgement under her breath. 

Leading Sol to the back of the cafe, the pair seated themselves in a relatively secluded booth, far from prying ears. Not all too hard of a task, since there were only 2 or 3 other patrons in the small establishment. 

Sol sat across from Dib, popping a straw into the drink and taking a long sip as they watched the dark-haired man rub at the bridge of his nose. Now that they were here… they weren’t quite sure how to begin. Best to start off with just the Zim thing, they guessed. They could always segue into the cam stuff, if it became necessary-

“Okay. I know you had that flip out when you saw Zim and I hanging out and-”

Dib hissed under his breath.

“And you KNOW he’s an alien? And you’re still hanging out with him?!” 

Sol pointed at Dib, glaring slightly. 

“Let me fucking finish, Dib! I’m here to talk, not to be lectured! So… please… talk. Just don’t talk over me. How you feel about him is obvious. But don’t take that shit out on me or I’ll up and walk out right now.” 

Dib froze in his seat, swallowing hard before nodding.

“Okay. Okay… you’re right. Sorry…”

Sol sighed softly, smiling thankfully at him. 

“Thanks… so going straight into that then, I guess… yeah, Dib. I know Zim is an alien. I know all about him being Irken. The works. And yeah, I’m still friends with him.”

Dib dragged a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair as the gears in his head turned. 

“Okay, but, you realize he’s trying to take over Earth, right? End of the world. Put us up on a silver platter for his masters. The whole coup de gras. I’ve been the only one who’s seen him for what he is for YEARS and been stopping him from taking over the planet.” 

Sol nodded along. 

“I know-” 

Dib blinked, thrown by the concise response. 

“You know?” 

Sol nodded again, taking a slow sip of their drink before continuing. 

“Yeah, Dib… Zim, he.... he told me everything. I mean that. Everything… And, yeah, it’s messed up. But even though he talks about all the stuff he’s done. And even though I’ve been through some of it… when we spend time together these days, I don’t feel… I don’t know, Dib. I don’t feel like I need to be scared around Zim.” 

Their gaze softened as they looked away. Dib’s mouth hung open in shocked confusion.

“I generally don’t feel like that around a ton of people, Dib. Maybe I should be. And if so, well, then so be it, and I’ll regret it one day. But I know I don’t regret it right now.” 

Green eyes locked onto Dib’s. 

“I haven’t felt safe near anyone in a long time. Let alone like I can really be ‘myself’ with anyone… Zim being an alien… he doesn’t give a shit who or what I am. I’m just me. I’d be a liar to say I’m not enjoying the friendship I feel like we’ve built. Even if it’s actually just one-sided.” 

Dib swallowed hard, licking his lips as he processed the response. Was it even possible for someone to interact with Zim like that? 

He had known the Irken for well over a decade, sure, but this was... they were describing someone else entirely. 

Zim had to be playing a game with them. He had to! Unless they truly had gotten to know a side to the alien even Dib hadn’t been privy to. 

But that was impossible. 

Wasn’t it? 

He looked to the person across from him, watching them tuck long, teal locks behind their ear for a moment. 

“Alright, fine. Let’s say Zim really is being all friendly. Why? What does he have to gain?” 

Sol shrugged a shoulder in response. 

“That’s a good question… this all started because I accidentally found out his identity. Since then, well, it’s been him mostly keeping tabs on me so I won’t blab about it.” 

Dib muttered to himself. That was it then. Zim did have a reason… That had to be all it was.

Sol chewed at their lip, taking another anxiety riddled sip of their drink. 

“Since we’re having this talk and I’m confiding in you about knowing all this about Zim… I also want to get something off my chest. If you don’t mind?” 

The young man blinked up at them in confusion. 

“Y-yeah, sure, what?” 

Sol tilted their head back, huffing slightly before sitting up again. 

“The whole ‘one-sided friendship’ thing I have going on with him… like I said, how I feel around Zim… isn’t something I feel around many people. And, well...the longer this goes on, the more sure I am that the attraction isn’t just… ‘platonic’, I’ll say.” 

A flush rose on their cheeks at the admission. Something about admitting the feelings made it more concrete. More undeniable. 

Noticing the tan of their cheeks darken as they muttered the confession, Dib’s own blush roared to life. His ears suddenly felt all too hot, despite an odd pang in the recesses of his stomach. Visions of them cumming while shouting the alien’s name filled his mind for a brief moment. 

“Oh. Oh! W-well I don’t know if Irkens even-”

His voice trailed off, unsure what to say. 

Sol nodded in agreement, understanding the lack of words. 

“Exactly! So you see the dilemma! As if the attraction wasn’t bad enough, this is territory so foreign it’s literally from another planet! When my subconscious fucks up, it does royally, right?!” 

The pair burst into uproarious laughter, wiping away tears and trying to catch their breath. 

Both breathed a sigh of relief at the lightened tone in the conversation. 

Dibs stare lingered over their outfit, an outrageous combination of an attention snatching fur coat and a crop top that said ‘Diet Industry Dropout’. He smirked, chuckling at it for a moment before taking a breath. 

Having this conversation with them... he didn’t feel right talking to them, knowing who they were. The feelings he had harbored for their persona; lusting after them and idolizing them. Meanwhile, they felt like they owed him some explanation of their personal life? He felt pretty shitty suddenly… 

The knot in his stomach tightened. 

He wrung his hands together for a moment, his tone softening. 

“So, hey, since we’re doing confessions… I kind of have one too… I, uh, kind of follow your streams? I didn’t realize who you were until recently, I promise! But, um, that user ‘CryptidHunter’? That’s me on the cam site…” 

Sol smiled soothingly, their gaze softening. They couldn’t deny a respect for him in the admission. They were perfectly content keeping their business and real world personas separate. But to have him lay himself bare… the vulnerability deserved sincerity in return.

“I know, Dib.”

Dib’s eyes widened. 

“Y-you knew?”

Sol nodded slightly. 

“I only figured it out when you talked about Zim in our solo session, so it wasn’t long ago, if it makes you feel better?” 

The young man laughed awkwardly, rubbing his neck. 

“A little. I guess… If you want me to stop using your channel, I completely understand! I don’t want to be a creep!”

He held out his hands defensively.

Sol chuckled, shaking their head.

“No! No, that’s alright. I’m not offended or anything. I’m not shy about my streams! And I’m okay with you still watching! Actually, uh, since it’s out in the open… I had been considering asking you something even before I knew who you were, since you’ve helped keep things in check on the live streams. And now that we’ve met IRL, well, it feels even more fitting. If you don’t mind that is…”

Dib blinked, curiously tilting his head.

“Ask what?” 

“Well, the chat’s gotten pretty big, and I need a mod to help out. You think you’d be up for it?”

They gave an awkward, lopsided grin. 

Dib’s eyes widened for a moment, before a small smile spread across his face. 

“Y-yeah! I-I mean, sure! If that would help you out! I would have done it anyway. Just… wow! Yeah, I’d love to help.” 

Sol sighed in relief, smiling in turn as they leaned forward, resting their face on the table for a moment. 

“Oh, man! Thank you. Seriously. I’ve been needing to find someone, and I only had like 3 people I was even considering, and you were one of them, but I didn’t want to make it weird. You’re a Godsend.” 

They tilted their face up, resting their chin on the table as they watched the man, grinning and laughing under their breath.

Dib laughed along with them. 

“Out of everything today, I think that is the least weird part of it…”

Sol sat up, snickering. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” 

The sound of the bell at the front of the cafe rang out, signalling another customer entering. The pair both looked over to spy a large group, consisting of multiple older women chatting amongst themselves. 

Dib stood up with a sigh, already dreading the upcoming chaos and the smell of mothballs that would soon envelop the small shop. 

“Alright, well, that’s my queue. That’s the book club that meets here every week, and they ALWAYS overwhelm us with ridiculous custom orders-”

Sol reached out, grabbing his apron to keep him from leaving as they pulled out their phone. Dib eyed the gaudy, alien shaped phone case and stifled a laugh. 

“Wait, before I get out of here, let’s exchange numbers.” 

Dib nodded, pulling out his phone. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. We should keep in touch. I’m still not entirely convinced Zim isn’t up to something… It’s a good safety measure.”

Sol rolled their eyes, handing him their phone so he could add his details.

“I meant since we have common ground. We both know Zim, so I feel like staying in touch would just… be smart. Plus, it’ll be easier to get in touch since you’ll be modding for me. I can get in touch outside of the site chat logs. Besides… it’d be nice just to talk once in a while, don’t you think? We should get to know each other better. Be friends.” 

Dib flushed slightly as he handed them their phone back, exchanging it for his own. 

“Y-yeah… we definitely should!” 

Sol’s grin widened, typing in a name for the contact: ‘DIB🐝’.

They turned the screen to show it to the young man, giving him a wink as they stood up. 

“Awesome! Text ya later, Dib-bee!”

Dib’s slight flush roared into a full-blown blush at the sight of the contact name, the nickname making him feel like he would melt into a puddle of goo where he stood. 

He barely registered the sound of his coworker yelling his name as he watched the living hurricane sweep out the front doors, utterly unphased by how they’d just sent him reeling. 

“Y-yeah! Text you later…”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to start off by saying this Chapter does have a TW/CW for a brief mention of assault.  
> It is not the primary focus of the chapter, but is a necessary.  
> I did not go into explicit detail, intentionally, as it is not focal to the story.  
> For those who want to skip the scene, I have put three *** to indicate when the scene begins and ends though, despite it being brief. 
> 
> Feel free to skip this part if it is a triggering topic for you! I want my readers to be safe, first and foremost, since this is not a story focused strongly around Sexual Assault. 
> 
> Also in this chapter though! Confessions and decisions go hand in hand!  
> As well as a first experience~

Sol dug through the basket of mismatched clothing before them, the static hum of the fluorescent lights flickering overhead as they muttered to themself. They called over their shoulder, towards the older woman smoking from a long, silver cigarette holder as she watched the tiny television behind the counter. 

“You sure it’s okay if I keep whatever I find in here, Ms. Iris?” 

The tiny woman smiled, winking at them behind her large, decorative glasses. 

“Little Sun, anything in that bin has been abandoned for weeks. No one is coming back for it. You’re doing me a favor. Take anything you want.” 

Sol returned the smile and sighed thankfully, tugging out a black and white striped shirt, thread-bare but comfy to the touch, and easily a few sizes too large. They began to strip from their clothes where they stood, shucking away the articles to be washed. 

As they tugged the ‘new’ shirt over their head, they let out a breath of air, tugging it down before returning to rummage around again for some pants as well.

“Maybe I’ll raid it later, then. Do some shopping. For now, I just need something to wear while I wash this stuff. Didn’t exactly want to walk home looking and feeling like… this.” 

They nodded towards the pile on the floor, turning up their nose slightly. 

They had spent the afternoon, and most of their evening, at their usual motel, taking clients in person. The beginning of their night had gone as usual, a few Johns showing up and following their specified rules with no qualms. Cash up front, services issued, they left. Rinse and repeat. 

That was until their last few clients. 

A few rowdy college guys trying to push their limits wasn’t all that uncommon, but it was usually nothing more than a thorn in their side. A minor annoyance. They could shut that down safely, thanks to the ‘deterrents’ they usually carried on them at all times. But a pair that had shown up in tandem had decided they were going to grant themselves a ‘refund’, since Sol had refused to bend the rules for them. 

After losing out on a hefty portion of their earnings from the night, they figured their evening couldn’t get any worse. They would take a few more clients and be done with the crumby night. 

Oh, how wrong they had been…

***

Their brows furrowed as they remembered their last client of the evening, a handsome young man, who fit the very stereotype of a perfect modern day Adonys. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the works. Slightly gangly for his height, but his lean figure had suited him, frankly. It wasn’t all too often they dealt with such conventionally attractive clients. Usually men as such had no problem finding someone to please them sexually without having to pay for company. 

However, Sol knew everyone had their kinks. Maybe this was one of his. And if so, who were they to judge? 

They couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off about him the entire time their transaction unfolded, though.

The way he looked at them wasn’t simply lust, or being lost in the moment, eager to get off. Something in the way he watched them made their hair stand on end. 

As they finally finished the man off, they found their gut instinct correct. 

The man had grabbed them, forcing them into a harsh, unpleasant kiss as he grabbed at their clothes, tugging and yanking at them. 

Unable to get to their bag or defensive items nearby, all they could do was fight back tooth and nail, praying in their mind that things wouldn’t take a turn for the worst. There was always danger in working the streets. They knew that. Usually they were so careful. But that didn’t mean danger was ever completely avoidable. 

Thankfully, though, the man’s intention only seemed to be to find release one more time, this time across their clothes, grunting as he came across their pants and stomach, and not fully forcing himself upon them. 

Thoroughly shaken, but utterly confused, they finally managed to kick the man off, shouting a variety of profanities at him and telling him to leave before they called the police, threatening to charge him with assault. 

Strangely enough, the man simply… smiled, apologizing for his actions, placing a wad of bills on the side table before leaving as casually as he had entered. 

***

After the encounter, Sol quickly called it a night, checking out of the motel and heading to the laundromat across the road. They had frequented the spot and knew the elderly woman that ran the 24 hour business like family. The idea of walking home in their sullied clothing repulsed them thoroughly, and they wanted to go somewhere with someone else around, even if only briefly. 

The older woman nodded knowingly.

“Rough night? You look like hell, Little Sun.”

Sol shrugged, tugging on a pair of army green sweatpants and snatching up their clothes. 

“Just a creep who got too handsy… you understand.” 

Another curt nod in response. 

“Well, you’re safe here. You get your things washed and tell me if you see him out front.” 

Sol smirked, tossing the defiled items into a washer and slipping some quarters into the slot, the sound of the machine cranking to life filling the empty facility. 

“Thanks Ms. Iris.” 

As the elderly woman returned to watching her late night soap opera, Sol hefted themself onto the row of machines lining the front window. Laying back, they let out a deep breath, turning their head to watch the empty street, the street lights a strangely comforting sight so late at night. 

Pulling out their phone, they smirked to see a missed message from Dib. ‘Just checking in’, as he put it. It wasn’t uncommon that the pair casually texted about their day now. Usually just mundane things, since swapping numbers the day before. A random meme, or a picture of something strange one of them had seen while out or surfing the net. 

Sol typed in a quick response, snickering. 

**’Busy washing away life decisions. Get some sleep nerd. I know you have school tomorrow. Don’t use me as an excuse to slack off.**

Before waiting for a response, they dropped the phone to their side, pulling out the wad of bills from earlier and beginning to count them. 

At least it made up for the shitty, little college fucks who ripped them off earlier… win some, lose some. 

Their attention perked, their head popping up at the sound of the older woman standing up with a slight groan, puttering over towards them. 

“Here. My grandson left his snack stash after his shift earlier. You look like you could use a nip. Teach him not to leave things sitting around, anyway.” 

The woman grinned and placed a large energy drink next to them, along with a bag filled with various chips and snack cakes. 

“Thanks-” 

Sol sat up, opening the can and taking a tentative sip. 

“I’ve gotta take care of something in the back and didn’t want to leave the place unattended. I’ll only be a few minutes. You mind keeping an eye on things? You know where the shotgun is if you need it, right?” 

Sol nodded, tilting their chin towards the counter. 

“Yeah, yeah, under the register. Bat’s behind the counter, too. I’ve got it here, Ms. Iris. Go on.” 

The elderly woman smiled softly, her eyes squinting as she reached over to ruffle Sol’s long black wig. 

“Thank you, Little Sun. You’re a good one. If only my grandson could learn a thing or two from you… I’d say you should consider him, but you’re far too good of a catch for that lazy boy.” 

The pair laughed at the comment, the older woman waving as she finally tottered towards the back door of the small laundromat. 

Sol sighed, rummaging through the bag of snacks and pulling out a pack of snack cakes. Ripping it open, they stuffed one of the confections into their mouth, chewing it slowly as they leaned against the cool glass. They found their thoughts wandering, their body sore. A sense of longing welling up inside them after the utter crap night they’d been forced to endure. 

Sighing, they looked ruefully at the other snack cake before popping it into their mouth. 

“Zim would love these things… I should buy some for him…”

»————- ☀ ————-«

Zim skirted along the empty city streets, searching out the area he remembered the human frequenting for their in person ‘work’, as they called it. When he hadn’t found them at their domicile at such a late hour, he knew it would be the most likely place he would find them.

The alien grumbled to himself. Why was he even bothering searching out the human, when they were exasperating his current dilemma? He needed to fix this.

These fickle flaws were the entire problem, driving him to search out the human. He should have just taken care of them, one way or the other. He shouldn’t be acting on them. 

Maybe that was part of why he found himself searching the streets so late at night for them, though. If he could just see them one last time… he could do what was necessary without regret. He could sate this curiosity nagging at the edges of his mind. 

As a familiar building came into view, Zim peered around for any sight of them, to no avail. 

Muttering Irken curses under his breath, the alien paced across the lot. If not there, where could they be? Were they inside? He didn’t feel like waiting around to find out, and checking would be a nuisance. Glancing up, he stopped in his tracks, a sense of ease filling him as black hair atop a familiar form came into his line of sight. 

An involuntary breath of contentment escaped him as he trekked towards the building, noting their slumped form against the front windowpane. 

Making his way inside, he paced over to them, pausing in front of them with his hands clasped behind his back. 

Sol blinked in surprise as the very alien they had been thinking of moments before appeared before them. 

“Zim! What are you doing here?” 

Zim glanced away before meeting their eyes again, shrugging.

“None of your business, human! I just happened to see you weren’t at your domicile earlier. So when I saw you here instead, of course I came to ensure you weren’t up to any funny business.” 

Sol chuckled lightly, perking a brow in surprise. 

“You recognized me? I don’t think you’ve ever seen me in this wig before. And these aren’t even my clothes. How’d you recognize me from behind?” 

The Irken fidgeted where he stood, clambering up next to them after a moment and leaning next to them. 

“Zim sees through all of your disguises...” 

Sol paused, processing the implications behind the admission. A slight smile crossed their face. 

Reaching their arm over, they leaned back, adjusting so the two of them were flush next to each other. When the shorter alien didn’t stiffen or pull away, they eased slightly, reaching for the bag of snacks and pulling out a bag of chips to share with him. 

The pair sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, both lost in their respective thoughts; neither quite wanting to break the quiet they had fallen into. 

It was when Sol looked over, noticing the distracted, stressful look in Zim’s eyes, that they cleared their throat, their own worries momentarily forgotten. 

“Hey, Zim-” 

The Irken distractedly munched a handful of the chips, barely muttering an acknowledgement. 

“Hm?”

“Is something wrong? You’re quiet. You’re not usually quiet.” 

Zim’s antennae wriggled under his wig, anxiety bubbling in him that he had been so easy to read. 

Should he tell them? What would he even say? Why did he find himself… wanting to tell them?

Avoiding looking towards the human, he cleared his throat, speaking up. 

“Zim is what is known by Irken standards as a ‘Defective’.” 

Sol looked to the alien curiously, repeating the phrase that he had hissed out with disdain. 

“A ‘Defective’?... W-What’s that?”

They were unsure if it was something they should ask, but it felt important to understand. 

Zim continued, his face contorting in disgust. 

“Defectives are Irkens that are failures to the Irken Empire. Something so inherently wrong with their PAK that it needs overwritten or destroyed. Genetic anomalies that shouldn’t exist. Embarrassments. Failures in every sense.” 

Sol watched Zim carefully, desperately wanting to tell him how wrong he was. But some part of them knew not to say anything. He needed to speak. He needed to be heard. And they would listen. 

“The Tallest were right… I am Defective. Thousands upon thousands of errors are encoded in my PAK. The very essence of what makes Zim, ZIM.” 

The Irken finally looked up to the human for a brief moment. 

“It is my duty to my people to repair these errors, or die in the process…” 

Looking away again, Zim’s stare became vacant. 

“Will Zim still be Zim? A better Zim? A better Invader! I should be elated to better serve the Tallest! To get rid of these terrible… URGES! So why isn’t Zim?”

Sol swallowed hard, parsing out their words carefully. 

Pulling away for a moment, they turned to face him, crossing their legs and cautiously touching his gloved hand. 

“Well… can I say something, Zim? If that’s alright?” 

Zim turned to face them as well, looking up at them with a slight nod. 

Sol took a breath, continuing with a gentle smile. 

“A lot of people, humans, would say I’m… ‘Defective’ for having my disabilities, you could say. I’m not neurotypical. I’m not 100% able-bodied. I know it isn’t the same. And I don’t want to say it is. I’ll never know what you’re dealing with, because I’m not you. But, I know that if someone offered me the option to fix my disability?... I’d say no…” 

Their gentle smile widened, their soft touch tightening to hold his hand. 

“That isn’t the answer a lot of people would like. And it’s not the answer everyone would even make. But I love myself as I am. Broken parts and all. All of it is what makes me… well, me. I’ve told you that before. And I mean it. I like the Zim in front of me. ‘Defective’ or not, all I know is that ‘Zim’. But… whatever you need to do, know that I’m here for you...” 

A slight blush rose on their cheeks, giving his hand a final squeeze before moving to pull away. 

As they did though, they felt gloved fingers wrap around their own, pulling them back towards the Irken. 

Zim’s cheeks darkened, his eyes flicking up to meet Sol’s as his mind worked ardently, trying to make sense of their words. 

“M-maybe… maybe there isn’t anything wrong with just being… ‘Defective’...”

Sol smiled wider, their blush spreading slightly. Biting their lip, thoughts of the other night came to mind, as well as their confession to Dib. The heat rising on their face suddenly felt burning hot, the hair on the back of their neck rising up.

“U-um… actually, Zim. What I said about liking you just now… I kind of have a bit of a confession. I just want to be upfront, from now on. Especially after, well… the other night.” 

Zim audibly gulped, his cheeks brightening visibly and presenting a new shade of green across his face. If there were any doubts that he knew about what had happened, they were long gone now. He had definitely been watching. 

Sol chuckled awkwardly, raising their opposite hand to rub their neck. 

“I meant what I said about liking you, Zim… maybe more than I should… I’m, uh, honestly very, very attracted to you-”

Silence hung in the air. Sol watched as Zim considered the words carefully, mulling over them. 

His mouth felt like it had been stuffed with sand. Every instinct told him to flee, to pull away from this taboo to his kind. But that feeling in his belly was rising, twisting and turning as his tongue rolled against the roof of his mouth. 

Zim’s grip on the human’s hand tightened for a moment, feeling like it was the only thing grounding him. As if, were he to let go, he’d go spinning off the planet itself, hurtling into the unknown. 

“Zim… understands. What Zim doesn’t understand… is the feelings tearing up his belly. Why do you make a Mighty Irken like Zim quiver and want to be near you?! Why don’t I see a filthy Earth stink? Instead you’re just… YOU! Making Zim unable to think or work! Wh-what is this… FEELING that makes Zim Defective? And why don’t I want it to go away?” 

His eyes shakily searched Sol’s; green eyes watching him intently as he spoke. 

“Zim thinks he is… ‘attracted’ to you too.” 

Sol’s mouth slid open, surprise filling them to their core. Sure, there had been moments they seemed to fluster the poor Irken. They had even fantasized and dreamed… but they had never seriously thought it was a possibility that Zim would return any attraction. They knew how he viewed humans, barely more than sentient filth, more times than not. 

This had taken them more than a little off guard. 

Zim shuffled from foot to foot in embarrassment, unsure of his own confession and beginning to regret his words. Anger started to rise, his gut instinct to hide his shame. 

“If you have nothing so say then!-”

Sol quickly shook their head, reaching a hand out to cover the Irken’s mouth gently. 

“No! No. Sorry! I was just processing. I never dreamed that you’d… I thought you’d find me repulsive, honestly. I never planned on pursuing anything. I just wanted to be honest with you. So it just… caught me off guard was all. I promise.” 

They smiled soothingly as the shorter being. As he seemed to visibly calm, they began to pull their hand away, pausing for a moment as a thought fluttered across their mind. 

“Do Irkens… have a way to show affection?” 

Zim pondered for a brief moment before quickly shaking his head, his tone firm as he lost himself in his thoughts. 

“No… Nothing ‘special’ at least. Nothing that has stayed relevant among the Irken people. Interpersonal relationships are not common. Nor encouraged. They are considered unnecessary distractions.” 

Sol frowned at the response, humming in disappointment. 

“That’s sad…” 

Zim muttered distractedly in response. “It is efficient.” 

Nibbling at their lip, the human raked their eyes slowly over the alien’s form, taking a slight breath. 

“Do you know how human’s show affection?” 

Zim’s attention returned to them, pulling his hand away as his face turned to one of disgust. He vaguely recalled his one brief ‘romantic tryst’ nearly a decade ago when Tak had disguised herself as a human. 

“My only experience with human courting and affection was… unpleasant. And ended up being with someone who was an enemy, so I cannot vouch for its authenticity.” 

The corner of Sol’s mouth turned upwards, biting down a chuckle. 

“Then, would it be okay if I show you human affection? I’ll stop if you ever want me to. I will never do anything you don’t like… I promise.” 

Zim considered the offer, the wriggling feeling in his stomach beginning to do backflips. He’d never been especially eager to try human affection again but… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad coming from them. They did say they would stop whenever he wished it. Not that he couldn’t make them, if he truly wanted them to. 

Nodding his head tursely, Zim looked up cautiously at Sol, searching their face for any sign of what they were going to do. His hands began to clench and unclench repeatedly at his sides, anxiety bubbling within him. What was he going to be subjected to? Would they dump something on him? He remembered the burn of the number of foods and drinks he’d been subjected to. Whatever it was, he hoped it would be over with quickly. 

Once Zim gave them consent, Sol swallowed shallowly, their heart hammering against their chest. Slipping off of the washers, they stood before him so their height difference wasn’t as unbearable. If he really had such a bad history, they wanted this to be as comfortable as possible for them both. 

Reaching out with a single hand, they softly caressed the side of the alien’s face, marvelling at the feel of his skin against the pad of their fingers and palm. Gently, they began to tilt his head, guiding him forward as they leaned their face to his. 

Their breath ghosted across Zim’s moments before they touched, reassuring the alien, who bristled for only a moment. 

“Trust me, Zim. I’ve got you…”

The moment the words left their lips, they softly pressed their mouth against his. Soft, plump lips melded against stiff, unsure ones until Zim slowly began to relax into the foreign touch. His eyes widened for a moment, searching their face before noticing their closed eyes, their relaxed features, and following suit. As he relaxed in turn, melting into the touch, warm filled his body, a content buzz quieting the anxiety in his brain. 

Sol guided him, slowly starting to pepper tiny kisses over the alien’s mouth as he began to mirror the feather light movements. The corn of their mouth curled as they slipped their hand to his side, tenderly pulling him towards them as the other caressed his cheek, their thumb tracing slow circles along his jaw. 

Zim felt the familiar feeling in his belly spread, a light thump growing more erratic in his chest. His claws slid to Sol’s sides, working around to their back and gripping into the loose fabric, needing them closer. As their chests met, he savored the feeling of their heart beating frantically within their chest, resonating against his lithe form.

As the Irken pulled them flush together, Sol nipped lightly at Zim’s lips, occasionally giving him kitten licks to silently beg him to part his mouth, asking for entry. When he did, a tiny pant escaped him, pulling away for air for only a moment before Sol deepened the kiss. They questioningly slid their tongue along Zim’s alien one, moaning contentedly at the foreign feel of it. 

Unlike a human’s, it was longer and thinner, the slight segments barely prominent as it flicked against the roof of his mouth. They had seen it before, but feeling it against their own was a new, strangely addictive sensation. 

They wanted to feel it more. 

Zim quickly began to copy Sol’s movements, slipping the prehensile appendage along their own, winding around it and nipping and licking at their lips for a moment. A satisfied, purring chirp rose from his throat, catching them both off guard for a moment. 

Sol blinked at the Irken, chuckling before leaning in to place a final chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

As they pulled away, Zim stared at them with a glazed over stare, his wig slightly mussed and his breathing heavy. 

“Zim thinks your affection is much more pleasant. That was… far superior. Much different, indeed.” 

He blinked at them for a moment, his eyes focusing as he smiled slightly. 

“Zim would like to do that again-”

Sol laughed, leaning forward and resting their forehead against his own as they closed their eyes. 

“I think I’d like that too, Zim…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has been enjoying the story thus far!  
> Be sure to let me know! 
> 
> As a heads up, I am not sure how quick the following update will be. I have big plans for the upcoming arc of the story, and while I have it planned out, I would like to fine tune the timeline and flesh it out before I make the next update~  
> Once I have it all set, I'll be back to posting pretty regularly.  
> In total, this story is set to have probably 2 primary arcs before a major climax, depending on how it pulls together. We'll just have to see!
> 
> I promise it will be worth the wait, though.  
> Our trio has some hurdles coming up, as well as more exploration into character growth and bonding.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we begin Part 2!  
> There are lots of good bits to look forward to over the course of the next Arc:
> 
> There will be some uncomfortable topics dealt with at certain points over the next chapters (ie stalking).  
> So this is a heads up for anyone who finds this especially hard to deal with!  
> As always, I will keep adding and updating story tags, so check in occasionally if you have any triggers.
> 
> It's also time for Zim to slowly begin to find out the repercussions of his decision~ 
> 
> Over the upcoming Arc, also expect some major Dib character development, which ties into Dib and Zim's evolving relationship in turn! 
> 
> Now, on we go with a short lil chapter to bring everyone back into our Protagonists' lives:

Zim muttered to himself in Irken; vaguely mechanical chitters and clicks flowing from his lips as he continued the ever-tedious task before him. He adjusted the mechanical gloves gracing his fists, returning his fingers to the scrolling code in front of him, picking apart and changing various holographic letters and numbers as he selected them. Occasionally, he would pause, looking to his notes on an opposing screen before shooting to another section of code to repeat the process. 

As the Irken’s fingers traced over a particularly large block of code, he paused, squinting at the details it entailed. With a flick of his wrist, the section he was focused on transferred to another screen, where he could better decipher the intricate details. 

“What on Irk is this gobbledy-gook…”, he groused quietly.

Flicking his eyes between the various screens, he hummed to himself. 

“This is what Zim was looking for... but… what is this attached to it-” 

The broken code in question had been the very programming designed to inhibit his access to his reproductive cycle, and any ‘physical or emotional growth’ that coincided with it. The details of which had been very brief in the Archives. 

After his encounter with Sol the other night, he’d decided that, if he would not eradicate the traces of these ‘feelings’ in his gut, he would at least find out the source of them. He planned to see what this experience was that The Tallest, and The Control Brains, had taken away from his people. From him. If that meant removing the coding from his core that inhibited him line by line, so be it, as tedious as the task was. 

He’d already been at it for days, weeding through various minor errors line by line.

Upon finding it though, something was **off** about the way they wrote the code into the PAK system. It seemed the PAK’s systems were designed to completely nullify anatomical growth. Not merely that of the reproductive hormonal system. 

Zim read through the codes, his eyes widening. He couldn’t help but wonder what physical changes would occur. What secrets to his own genetics he wasn’t privy to. 

“More truths for Zim to uncover…” 

The Irken grumbled irritably to himself before pointedly deleting the code that glowed before his eyes. 

Filled with a newfound vigor, he returned to his task, hurrying through it, while taking care to pay careful attention to every possible detail. Temporarily, he skimmed past anything that seemed of little importance. He would have plenty of time to address his ‘errors’, as they had been labeled. For now, he had a particular goal in mind, and he wanted to be thorough. He had to prioritize things, after all. 

He couldn’t risk missing anything, by getting distracted. Not when the slightest error meant corrupting the very core of his existence. 

Not when he had a reason to come out of this and see the results of this little experiment. 

After a few more hours of diligently grinding away, the alien pulled off the gloves with a tired, satisfied sigh. The hard part was over, but now was the true test of his work. Not to mention, he was completely unsure what would happen once he reset his systems, letting the patched and repaired code take effect… Altering the PAK system itself was a level of taboo in his culture, it was unspoken of. It was thought to be impossible. No Irken would dare to try. Doing so was madness. 

Giving his PAK a final glance, the Irken’s fists squeezed tightly at his sides. He swallowed a lump in his throat as memories filled his head of everything he had learned in the Forbidden Archives. His thoughts spun, quickly beginning to overwhelm him, until a familiar human face settled into his mind. 

As Zim thought of the human that had sparked this entire ordeal, he let out a shallow breath, his thoughts calming. 

Reaching forward, he pressed the primary button on his PAK, causing it to zip back to its place on his back with a quick, mechanical noise. The three pink panels blinked, letting out a beeping noise as the code reset, surging through Zim’s system. The Irken’s vision faded out, his body collapsing, the feeling of the cold metal floor hitting him like a tidal wave as he dropped into a crumpled heap, all sensation leaving his body moments later. 

The next thing he knew, he felt an electrical surge coursing through him, a breath forcing itself into his chest as his vision flickered back, his surroundings blindingly bright, their usual pink tint less muted than usual for a moment until his implants recalibrated. 

Zim sat up, looking around his lab in momentary confusion as he realized his body must have completely reset when his PAK had processed the changes. 

He rubbed his head where he had hit the floor and groaned quietly, taking a mental note of his body’s systems. Nothing seemed to be broken at least… Nothing new had sprouted suddenly. Maybe it would take time for his body to process the lack of the inhibitors affecting his system. He wouldn’t be surprised, if so. 

It just felt jarring to feel so… unchanged. 

Standing from his spot, the Irken shrugged off the thoughts temporarily, making a mental note to start logging any changes in his physical wellbeing. He rolled his shoulders, an unfamiliar ache blooming between them for a moment before he shrugged it away. 

For now, after such a physically strenuous reset, he found himself quite tired and longing for some sleep to recover. Trudging towards the elevator, he barely stifled a yawn before he paused, pondering on the passing realization as his brows knit together in irritation. 

“I have never felt exhaustion after a reset before… strange…”

»————- ☀ ————-«

Sol groggily rolled from their bed, barely catching themself from falling on their face, the floor coming dangerously close to knowing their face on an intimate level. Grumbling indignantly, they used the bed to brace their upper body, clambering back up to an upright position before fully standing up. “Stupid floor… Stupid bed… Stupid alarm… lemme sleep.” A tired yawn clawed its way from their throat, their jaw nearly unhinging as it widened, a small pop echoing from their mouth as it opened to accommodate the action.

The human let their hands flutter over their head, grasping together as they grunted in discomfort, stretching out their aches from a night of fitful sleep. The feeling of their short hair against their arms as their limbs moved scratched slightly against their skin, a subtle reminder that their head fuzz needed a trim soon. They momentarily ran their hand over their head, groggily wondering if they should just razor it and go smooth again, to make things easier. 

The thought crossed their mind to ask Zim’s opinion. If he would even have one. 

They cringed at the thought, letting out a hiss.

It had been days since they had heard from Zim. The last time being their first kiss with the alien in the wee hours of the morning, under the flickering light in the laundromat. Their hands dropped down as the memory flickered to the forefront of their mind, a faint smile splitting their face. Butterflies came to life in their chest. 

Turning towards the primary camera watching over their room, as per their morning routine, they waved a hand in greeting. “Good morning, Zim… I hope you’re doing okay, if you’re watching… I miss you.” 

Their smile flattened for a split second as they wondered why he had seemingly disappeared for so many days since then. Before, when he wouldn’t show up for days at a time, in the beginning days of this arrangement, they had never minded, let alone cared. So why did it now bother them so much? 

Ah. That’s right… the kiss. 

They wondered if the alien was having second thoughts for a split second, before shaking their doubts away. 

He would be back and underfoot again before they could bat an eye. They just knew it. Yeah. No doubt about it. He was a buddy little creature. But if there was one thing he was, it was stubborn. Once he decided on something, he seemed to stick to it. They didn’t need to worry about him having cold feet. Chuckling to themself, they puffed up their chest, quickly bustling to their kitchen to attend their morning routine. Taking their medications and administering their hormones, they promptly transitioned to making a hearty breakfast, taking care to make sure it was both filling and nutritious, since they would be working a long escort shift later this evening, with a relatively prominent client. They needed to be feeling their best. 

Plus, if they were being honest with themself… ever since the instance when Zim had found out the depth of their reliance on their routine to function, the Irken had, not so casually, started monitoring them more closely. It was hard for them not to notice, and even harder for them not to be moved, that he seemed to fuss over them, in his own way. Even if it came across as demands or critiques, more often than not. 

To keep the alien from complaining about their ‘insufficient sustenance’ or falling into another ‘episode’, they were trying more ardently to keep up with their journal, and to take care of themself. 

Like it or not, it was benefiting them... They hadn’t felt as stable and baseline as they had lately in… longer than they cared to admit. 

Having the proper motivation truly did wonders, apparently. 

After plating up their meal, they hopped up onto the counter, crossing their legs, and took a content bite of their breakfast, making a mental note to thank the Irken. 

“Who’d have thought the short little shit would be good for me…” 

They stared down at the full plate of food, the corner of their mouth curling slightly as their heart swelled in their chest, warmth bubbling up within them. 

Shaking their head, they snapped themself out of their daze, quickly polishing off their food before it could become cold and unappetizing. 

The rest of their morning passed in dull monotony, a routine so ingrained in them it came second nature by now. The only remotely interesting change was the occasional text from Dib, discussing plans for introducing him as a Mod in their announcement tomorrow morning, and the following debut Live Stream, with him as their acting Moderation. 

The poor man was nervous, worried over other members' reactions to the announcement. Sol simply laughed, calling the dark-haired boy up to talk on the phone, much to his surprise, and talking him down from his fears. 

“Dib-sweetie, I promise, it’s not a big deal. If anything, the channel will probably get support over this. It’s a sign that I’m expanding. And, especially if I say that we are friends IRL, no one will argue or give you shit. I promise-” 

Dib stuttered, letting out a breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He flopped backwards onto his bed and dragged his hand down his face in exasperation. 

“I know, okay? But what if they... DO? I don’t want to cause your watchers to turn on you just because they think you used some favoritism or that I bought my way in or somethi-”

Sol held a hand up, remembering he couldn’t see them, and speaking up to cut him off. 

“Full stop, anyone who does? I want you to block them from my channel completely. Above anything else, that’s the purpose here, right? And I TRUST you with this, Dib. I wouldn’t have asked you, otherwise. And anyone toxic enough to be gross and shitty about the fact that I assigned someone to be a Mod for my channel? They need to stay the hell off my channel and away from my media. Yeah, it’s about sex primarily, but it’s about more than that... How many vids have I done of just comfort and talk downs, huh? How many shows never hit the NSFW mark and just ended up being chill sessions and everyone sat and talked that night was cool with it? Well, not everyone, but anyone who didn’t like it was just a bunch of thirsty rando’s. They weren’t regulars!... It’s alright.”

Dib nodded, running his fingers through his hair. He thought back on some of the sessions they were referring to. They were common, but they did happen. He had honestly forgotten about them, which was strange because they were part of what had endeared them to him, when he stumbled upon them. The fact that they just… were lowkey and chill. That their site was more than porn. It was an online personality that he felt comfortable around. Them being attractive was just a perk. 

He took a deep breath, opening his eyes and staring at his ceiling, counting the glowing stars he had stuck upon it to calm himself. Smiling slightly, he rubbed at his eyes. 

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right… Thanks, Sol. I’ll do my best. I won’t let you down.”

They smiled at the tired, but serious tone he held, chuckling softly in response. 

“I know you won’t, Bee. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

Dib’s ears reddened at the shortened version of the already endearing nickname, choking back a hollow noise that tried to pull from his throat. His hand slipped to his face, desperately covering his mouth as he breathed carefully, grinning the goofiest smile he’d ever experience. Why were they so stupidly cute about nicknames? 

“Yeah. Thanks~”

Sol’s thoughts wandered for a moment; pulling out their journal to check their schedule for the next day or two, they thumbed through their calendar, their tongue sticking out between their lips. 

“Alright, so I’ve got the update for the channel scheduled tomorrow, and the actual stream is the day after, usual time… but tomorrow after I get my updates done, I’m free, I think? As long as tonight goes as planned. IRL stuff. It’s been a hot minute, and I don’t wanna be lonely all day tomorrow. You wanna hang if you’re free?” 

Dib perked up at the offer. Most of their time together had been brief, usually in passing before or after his shifts at the cafe, or time spent in calls or text. Between his own work, college courses, and cryptid hunting, and Sol’s respective work, the pair rarely had aligning schedules, as it turned out. Adjusting his glasses, Dib glanced at his schedule on his wall, noting that he had a mid-shift taking up most of his day. 

Fuck that. 

He could trade with Tracy and take the opening shift, giving him all day free. Tracy owed him after he had gotten rid of the zombie gophers infesting her basement. 

It’s not like Tracy had anything better to do anyway- 

Dib grinned ear to ear, a lilt in his voice.

“Yup. Tooootally free. Your place or mine? I can do anything in the afternoon.” 

Sol’s smile widened, pumping their fist. “Fuck yeah. Thanks, Dib. I kinda wanna talk anyway. Something went down that I wanna talk about? But anyway, I’m fine with either. Just lemme know. I can-” 

Their voice trailed off as the sound of something fiddling with their mail slot caught their attention, their ears perking up at the out of the ordinary noise. 

Sol’s brows knit together in confusion. 

The mail never came to their door slot… they had a mailbox at the street. Weird.

Distractedly, they muttered into the line, not noticing as the man called their name, asking if they were still their. _”Sol? Sol, you still there? What’s up? What’s going on?”_

“Yeah, yeah… hey, I gotta go. I’ll call you back, Dib. Mail’s here...” 

Swiping the call away on their phone, they stalked across the house, pursuing the source of the sounds. The metallic clatter suddenly grew quiet mere moments after a soft, papery ‘plep’ hit the hard floor by the front door. 

As Sol entered the kitchen, they scanned the room, surveying it cautiously until their gaze stilled on a small packet of paper that had been shoved through the front slot. Stepping up to it, they crouched down, inspecting the blank letter with confusion. No name or return address graced the front, nor any postage. Double weird. 

Whoever had left this here had left it in person. Sol shrugged, flipping it over so their could open the strange package. Grasping the top of the envelope, they gripped the paper and ripped it open quickly, eager to satisfy their growing curiosity. Tugging out the small, tri-folded note, they found a only typed letter that merely read:

**'To have found Saturn’s Ambrosia is a treasure rivaling the Patiala.  
You are everything.  
My Paradisiacal Afflatus .'**

Sol’s head slipped back for a moment, their entire body subconsciously distancing from the note as they processed the words.

“Are… Is that my screen name?... Um…. Whaaaaaaaat the fuuuuuuuuck… Oh, I do not like that.” 

Standing up at a jarring speed, they slipped the lock on their front door, poking their head out the crack. Flicking their head back and forth, they scanned the neighboring houses and the surrounding road, finding nothing out of the usual. 

Keeping their hand on the doorknob, they stepped outside slightly, taking a deep breath before shouting into the road. 

“HEY! WHOEVER YOU ARE! YOU’RE A FUCKING CREEP!... Stay away or I’m calling the cops!”

Watching for any response, they, unsurprisingly, received none. Slipping back into their house, they shut their front door behind them and bolted the lock shut loudly. Letting their head fall back against their door with a hollow ‘thunk’, they sighed in exasperation. Rubbing their palms over the prickly fuzz on their scalp, they stared at their ceiling, unsure what action to take. 

“Great. Just what I fuckin’ need… “

Slipping their hands down to their face, they rubbed at their skin until it ached. They would need to be extra cautious for a while, until they could find out who had found their actual address. They only used a P.O. box for deliveries under their persona’s name, as a general rule of thumb these days, so this was a slight red flag. Nothing TOO alarming, but enough so that their anxiety was rising. Shaking out their hands, they took a calming breath, counting in and out. It wasn’t the first time a wayward fan had hunted down their info, so they had learned to be cautious about keeping it locked down. A single person sending some off-color letters would be easy enough to deal with though. 

“Alright, Sol. Not a big deal. Let’s just get ready for tonight. Big Kid britches time!” 

Marching themselves to their bathroom, they busied themself with showering and preparing for the evening ahead, purposely focusing on each detail so as to distract their disquieted thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated, and motivate me to get updates posted sooner!  
> Let me know how you're enjoying the story thus far, as well any favorites or theories~


End file.
